Love or Blood
by GothicRose18
Summary: A thief gets caught stealing within castle Skingrad. The punishment is death but Janus Hassildor spares her life. She becomes his newest servant, but when feelings grow will they give him happiness or enrage him further? Better Summary inside. Janus/OC
1. Summary

Love or Blood

Main Summary

Authors Notes: I have been working on this story for sometime now. It's a bit confusing so I think a summary is needed. This story does follow a quest line but it's really of little importance. This will be at times a bit of a dark fic so in later chapters the rating may be pushed to M. (It is still a bit sketchy though.) Just please let me know what you think of it.^^ I'd also like to add that I'm no good at romance stories. Truth be told, I don't really care for them. This whole story is really just a big experiment for me. XD

xxxx

Everyone who has ever played Oblivion is aware of its vampires or the Vampire Cure quest, and so should know of Janus Hassildor. (If you haven't than look no further! I don't want to spoil this awesome game for you! XD) This is a story based off the Vampire Cure quest line (but that wont show until later chapters) and is mainly about the Count himself.

I felt awful bad when playing the game and discovering the Counts secret wife. The story is so tragic that I'm really surprised no one else has created a story similar to this one. (If you are the author of one sorry for that last line. I have just never seen your story)

This fic is a story about a young girl: Abigale Lynn, who becomes indebt to Janus Hassildor. He then makes her his newest servant. The story is told through first person and third. The parts entering third person let know what the Count is thinking without going directly into his head. The story takes place at the time when the Count is finally thinking of letting Rona have the rest she desires. But that is what makes this a story: the Count is indecisive over many things. Mainly over Rona and his new maid. XD

If you decide that this story is interesting and want to read it, I'll ask you to put yourself in Abigale and Count's shoes. Abigale Lynn is very naïve and does not understand the Counts feelings or motives (naive not stupid XD). Abigale is blind to the Count odd affections and kindness, she only goes on what she knows and feels. He is a vampire, she is blood. But as the story proceeds she comes to think of him as a friend, the closest one she's had in years. But what does the Janus Hassildor _really_ think of her?

The Count is at first skeptical of Abigale because of what she had done to earn her place in the castle, but soon grows fond of her. Although she has a rough back round she is smart, pretty and sweet. Sooo, Janus soon starts to 'like' her. But when he registers these feelings he becomes guilty and _slightly_ annoyed by them.

With Rona in eternal slumber and hidden away in the Chamber of Fate, his sudden compassion for the girl makes him more than confused. Everyday his feelings grow stronger and so does his guilt. In this story he begins to unravel (what I would think anyone in his position might do) and his thoughts and worries torment him. Poor guy. I'm so mean huh? XD

Janus does not want to let Rona go but he knows it is what she wants. Nor does he want to stay simply _friends _with Abigale. But does she share the same feelings for him? What happens if Janus tells her of his affections and she says no, no she does not feel the same way.

And what are these odd affections anyway? He has not felt anything but sadness and displeasure in such a long time that when this all begins to happen he does not yet know what he is really feeling. Is he really in love with this girl or is it simply lust?

No, he knows it's love, but what is he in love with more: her love or blood?

(Dramatic BUM, BUM, BUM!^^ )

xxxx

Sadly all of my silly little quotes and sarcasm will be for the most part left out of this fic, it's a bit more serious, confusing and long. Let me know what you honestly think of this. The next chapter will be the prologue of Abigale (how she gets herself into his debt) and is as all my prologues -- a bit short. But after that the real, _long_ story begins. There wont be really much of combat action in this story, it's more of an angst/romance… well kinda romance. Abigale can be as dumb as a post sometimes. Some familiar faces will pop up (hehe D.B) but that's enough spoiling.


	2. Prologue: Abigale Lynn

Authors Notes: Here is the Prologue of Love or Blood. Love it, hate it, review it if you like! R+R is always welcomed, along with constructive criticism. As a friendly and honest warning, this is not your average adventure fanfic and may be boring to some. It's really just something that I enjoy writing in my spare time and will continue to do so either way.

Love or Blood

Prologue: Abigale Lynn

I have always loved the city of Skingrad at nightfall. The light from the oil lanterns seems to shine so warmly off the manors. It looks almost poetic really. If I had the courage to sing in public, I would become a bard and surely one of my first sonnets would be about a night in Skingrad. But as said, I lack the courage, and voice.

No I'm not being modest. I can sing, but I usually don't say more than seven words a day. I'm well, a bit shy actually. And when you're a thief, a shy one at that, you usually don't spend your time composing. Quite the contrary, your always ducking the guards and trying your hardest to find a place to sleep for the night.

No one really enjoys a stone pillow.

Forgive me if I am confusing you, I don't mean to. But everything is so hectic lately that I'm afraid it's starting to rub of on me. I have just recently joined the Thieves Guild thanks to a accomplice of mine. No, not friend accomplice. I don't have any friends, I have always been a loner. I'm afraid I was raised that way.

Well, thanks to that member of the guild; I'm in, and I am currently on my first big heist. Please don't ask the name of my Doyen, I wont give you their name and I would much rather not have to disappoint you. But all-in-all, my first big heist. My stomach is in knots, and I'm biting my lip again. A nervous and not so glamorous habit of mine.

To be honest with you, I have no idea what this mission is all about. I was given little information. But the only thing that matters is that I'm getting paid. Which is good, I haven't eaten in three days. I would much rather not die of starvation.

I have come close though on many occasions, it is defiantly not something I would recommend. I have just started to gain a little bit of my weight back and really don't want to lose it again. I'll look like a walking skeleton with hair.

Red hair to be exact, so it would be a strange sight.

Tonight is one of those cool nights with a warm eastern breeze. A perfect night for a theft, no one expects thieves on calm nights. I've noticed that. They always lock up much tighter when it rains, as if the water gives us all power or something of that like.

I absolutely hate the rain, and I don't hate much, so no. Rain does naught but make me squirm. You wont find this little street rat, running around in a downpour if she can help it, no sir.

Thankfully weather is not on my list of worries this evening. It's what I am to do. I don't know how to be prepared or what to say. Apparently, I am meeting with one of the highest ranking guild members. She is very important and is said to have direct contact to the Grey Fox himself.

So this mission _is_ an important one.

It could very well lead to a brighter future for me if she gives back a good report. I'm going to have to talk to her, pretend I'm exactly what she wants to see. A thief. Not the timid miss Abigale Lynn, no I am to be just; Gale, the prowler. My alter ego. Or, my alter ego for tonight that is.

I'm not a very good actress, so I have to try my best to convince this; Shadowfoot Korana, that I am a true, cunning and greedy thief. When to be quite frank I'm neither.

xxxx

I have been told to meet her right by the castle's bridge at midnight. Which is drawing nearer, I suspect that she'll be here soon. I made it a point to dress in my finest scrubs today; leather grieves, a shirt with suspenders to hold my pants up, a dark thin material cloak, and gloves. Always the gloves, my hands are the only part of my body that hasn't been scarred yet. My leather gauntlets are to keep them that way.

I'm no good with weapons and have never been trained in the ways of the sword. I doubt that I would be able to pick one up if my life had depended on it. So all I have is a dagger on my hip, just as a precaution of course. I don't intend on killing people.

But when you threaten someone while holding a dagger, you seem more menacing. It tends to help get you out of sticky situations.

I'm trying to act as casual as possible; leaning against the stone pillar, my hands in my pockets, my cloak's hood up. Eyes closed, that is another important thing, keeping your eyes closed as a thief means that you can sense others nearby. I really cannot, but it's worth a try.

You must always try.

As I was listening to the crickets chirp, I suddenly noticed a new sound with them. Steady light footfalls, the steps of a thief. Of that I am sure. I opened my eyes and sure enough, a hooded figure was walking over to me. I calmly pried myself from the wall to meet it.

"You the prowler I heard about?" came a soft feminine voice from beneath the hood. I took in a deep breath, not only was it time to talk, it was time to talk like a thief. A non educated thief.

"Aye, your Korana?" usually, we don't use our real names, but since she is so high in the ranks I doubted that she gave out her real one to anybody anymore. My assumption was correct, she didn't hush me.

"Good to meet you Gale." she said as she pulled back her hood. I felt a slight twinge of anticipation jump through me as she did so. It was strange to get to actually meet the infamous Korana.

The first thing her that caught my attention was her hair. It was the strangest yet most beautiful color I had ever seen. It was golden, but had reddish highlights streaking through it. She had it pulled back in a long braid that went all the way down to her tailbone.

It became all to obvious that she had elven heritage. Her features were all to elegant, her eyes slightly tilted, and her skin took on a golden sheen. Though her ears had no point, and she was of human height, I suspected she was an Altmer descendant.

She stared at me with emerald eyes as she waited for me to remove my hood. "Likewise, Shadowfoot." I let it fall back to my shoulders so she could see my face. I watched her smile warmly at me, her nose wrinkled slightly as she did so.

"Pretty little imperial. You are young for your rank, but the Doyen spoke fondly of you. I wont doubt your abilities." She stepped closer while I was toying with the thought of calling her hypocrite.

What was she twenty four, twenty seven? Not too much older than me.

"Our task tonight is an important one, but I cannot tell you what we will be doing exactly." she started, looking around, "All you need to know is that I am busting a friend of mine out of jail, and retrieving a important tome."

"That is good enough for me, but what am I to do? Surely there is a reason for summoning me?" I asked as pleasantly as possible. She nodded and soon continued.

"You my friend, are to help me find my way, that is all. You are the only thief based in Skingrad. You know this city better than anyone else, and I assure you." She said as she pulled her hood back on. "It will be worth your wile."

She then handed me a scroll, I took it. Giving it and her, an inquisitive glance "What is it?" She smiled again, it almost reached her ears, "Your pay."

My heart sank. I was hoping for gold, not a piece of paper. I have never been a magic lover and this was not going to put food in my belly. I glanced up at her, she must have sensed my sudden disappointment.

"This is no ordinary scroll, it is a very special one indeed. And is far more valuable than gold." I stared at her for a moment waiting for her to continue. She did albeit quicker this time.

"This is the; Scroll of the Thief. A heavily enchanted artifact. It gives you the full chameleon spell and feather, you can carry three times your weight with it." My curiosity peeked slightly as I suddenly saw her reason for giving me this, I felt like a fool for being so ungrateful.

"No locks can keep you out, and you shall be as silent as the grave. Once you show me where the jail cell is, it's yours. And you alone will become the intangible thief, but only for an hour. I figured that this being the richest city, the castle would have enough lute to make you the wealthiest thief in all of Cyrodiil."

I smiled widely, it became apparent why she was one of the Grey Fox's right hand thieves. She was smart, very smart and in thief's that's hard to come by.

"This sounds very lucrative." I knew the Count was the richest around, and I must be the poorest. I do not like what I do; being a thief, but one must live. If stealing from the wealthy is the only way, so be it.

"Well than let us be off, The guards should have already changed shifts. I can take you to the dungeons. But beyond that, your guess is as good as mine." I stated simply with a shrug as I pocketed the scroll. Flicking up my hood I turned to face her.

"Fare enough miss Gale." she started, "The Doyens trust was well placed. Let's begin."


	3. Scroll of the Thief

Authors Notes: Alrighty then it begins, the first chapter of Love or Blood. I'm afraid I put waay to much detail into this story already, I just cant bring myself to change it or stop XD. These chapters will be long so my updates may be scattered and not posted fluently (my bad) so here is my random story that I hope turns out okay. I don't know, constructive criticism is appreciated.

Love or Blood

Chapter one: Scroll of the Thief

We entered the castles courtyard through a small hole in the stone structure. We were both small enough to slip through easily and were well hidden in shadow on the other side. It became obvious that I was right to assume that the guards had all changed shifts, for there were none in our sight.

We carefully made our way up the wooden porch that lead to the dungeons. And although I could see no danger my heart was beating rapidly, sweat forming along my brow. An adrenaline rush I believe, but I held a composed face. I didn't want the Shadowfoot to think I was paranoid.

I guided her to the dungeons door and offered to pick the lock. She simply shook her head and pulled out a key. "I picked it from the captain of the guards pocket." she said with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Needless to say I was impressed.

The door creaked open as we made our way in. I carefully shut it behind me and walked over to her. She was crouching by a wall, invisible to the untrained eye. I watched her as she pulled out a small mirror from her pocket and used it to look around the corner.

"Shit!" she swore under her breath. I silently made my way over to her. "What is it?" I mouthed. She simply peered at me through her hood, cocked her head toward the side and held up one finger. Thieves' sign language for someone nearby.

I nodded, this was something I was good at. I could always get by people unseen if needed be. I took the mirror from her to get a good look at him. He was sitting at a table reading a book. Not a very good method of keeping watch, but all the more easy for us.

I smiled, right behind him was a small bookshelf, perched upon it a ceramic vase. I held out my hand to her and mouthed "coin." she quirked her brow, but reached into her pocket and handed me a septim. Taking it I waved my hand at her to stand back.

You must always take precautions.

Silently I unsheathed my dagger, holding it by the blade in my gauntleted hand. I carefully balanced the coin on its hilt and then, taking in a deep breath, jerked it upward. The coin flew into the other room, I pressed my body to the wall and listened as the septim made a small '_ping!' _once it ricocheted off the vase. Then like clockwork, it was followed by a large crash.

I struck gold, the vase smashed to the floor.

As soon as we heard the guard's chair scraping across the floor, we bolted into the room. While his back was turned we made our way to the jail room door. Korana quickly shoved the captain's key into the lock and turned it. We ran straight in but didn't make a sound.

Shutting the door behind us Korana and I made our way down the cell block. Not bothering to listen if the guard would check on the prisoners, he was to interested in his book to care in the first place. Standing upright, Korana pulled back her hood and walked toward the closest and only prisoner in the vicinity.

"I'm looking for an Argonian." she stated quietly to the old Nordic prisoner. He took one look at her and without any hesitation began to barter his freedom for information. She of course wasn't going to risk letting loose some creepy old Nord, and constantly refused.

I on the other hand, wasn't listening to them argue. I was looking around.

People are not reliable.

I made my way over to the last cell. I was peeking in the bars of each small room, looking for any type of clue as to where the other prisoners could have gone. Then just as I was about to turn around and go back to Korana, I slipped. Thankfully I did not fall, but I did look down to see what it was I had stepped in. It was blood and still fresh, I could feel it's shockingly cold temperature through my quilted shoes.

Argonian blood.

"Korana!" I whispered just as she was about to unlock the Nord's cell. She looked up at me with a lock pick in hand as I beckoned her to come forward. She placed the small copper rod back into her pocket and made her way towards me. Once she was reasonably close, I pointed to the blood on the floor.

"I can feel it. It is Argonian's, surely." her eyes widened in shock and she began to look around frantically, fingering the hilt of her dagger. I know she had said that he was a friend of hers, but up until now I didn't believe it. We soon found that there was a trail of the crimson fluid. It lead to the wall opposite of the jails entrance.

"I think there is more over there," Korana said squinting off into the darkness, "if I could just see." She reached up to grab the torch that was mounted to the wall but it didn't come off. Grunting she began to pull on its handle. As she yanked at it harder there was the faint sound of rolling gears followed by the a low groaning.

We both pivoted to look at the wall, the source of the racket. Our eyes simultaneously widened as we watched it move. It was no wall, but a secret passage. We exchanged curious glances but quickly made our way in, making sure to push it almost al the way closed when we reached the other side.

Almost, it would look shut from far off. But if it was indeed a trap, we can still make our escape.

xxxx

It turned out to be a long set of tunnels. But we soon came to a fork in the passage. It was obvious that one way led to the palace and the other to the unknown. I was going to follow Korana through the left passage when she stopped me.

"I feel that this is where we must part Gale." she said quietly, "For I fear that danger lies down this path, you have more than proved yourself to our guild." she smiled at me and then spoke even softer than before.

"The Grey Fox will hear of your skill Prowler. Go, take your scroll and earn your keep. Whatever you get I'm sure you've more than deserved. Shadow hide you Gale, though with the scroll I doubt you'll need it."

I smiled and went to part, "Shadow hide you Korana."

She nodded her face almost blank, "It usually does." She then smiled flicked up her hood and hurried down the path.

"_It usually does." _Strange thing to say, but I am no one to judge. I turned and took the right tunnel. I was certainly ready to earn my keep. Not that this was much of a heist, but I do believe that when the opportunity for wealth comes around, you would be a fool not to take it.

I have only known Korana for little over an hour now, but I fear I'm already beginning to think like her.

xxxx

The passage I took led me to the castles basement. I made it a point to be as silent as the grave, for in one of the rooms of the wine cellar I heard deep snoring. I cant be entirely sure, but I believe the snores are not human. Far to throaty, I think it may be an Orc.

I made my way through the basement and castle. In a short amount of time I had passed through the great hall and located the private living quarters of all 'important' staff members. To my surprise not all were asleep, there were several maids in little white aprons that were still scurrying about.

I thought that strange, but paid it little mind. This was the Largest castle of Cyrodiil, besides the White Gold Tower of course, it could have use of a nightshift. By the time I had past another small group of maids I reached down for the scroll and read it carefully. I closed my eyes and said the enchantments under my breath.

I have never been that good at magic, but the sensations one gets when correctly casting a spell are undeniable. I could feel the magic slowly seeping from the parchment and onto me. Its sporadic tingling climbing its way up my fingertips and forearms. The odd sensation of your body being tightly wrapped in cool silk. I knew it had worked, I may not be interested in the Arcane arts, but I do know the effects of them.

Once the scroll was just paper, I smiled broadly and pocketed it. I had become invisible. I was a mere ripple of colors and blended in perfectly with the back round.

It was now time to get my take.

xxxx

The castles Stewardess was the first on my list. For the simple fact that she was the closest to me. I entered her room and didn't even unlock the door. The spell did it for me once my fingers brushed against the doorknob.

I made a makeshift sack out of some spare cloth I had found in her drawers. With that in hand, I took everything that I thought valuable. Jewels, and pearls things of that like, then left her room. I looted out all the important staff members until they had naught but their clothes.

I was quite pleased with the outcome. I had taken mainly expensive jewelry, so I still had much room in my sack. There was only one more prospect in the entire castle, and that was the Count himself; Janus Hassildor. I was needless to say, a bit hesitant to steal from the Count himself.

I have heard strange rumors you see.

Against my better judgment, I decided to rob the Count. This was a once in a lifetime chance, I couldn't get caught. I'm not going to let some crazy town gossip push me away from wealth.

I admit, I am being greedy. But after all I have been through I think I deserve it.

Hastily, I made my way to the Counts manor. It was larger than the servants quarters and the great hall all put together. He had many spare rooms and multiple studies, the walls were adorned with exotic paintings and sculptures. And me being a lover of art, found myself staring in awe at everything.

I was amazed at the manor, and my new found wealth. Everything I took was small, most no larger than a fists, but all was expensive. Little gold statues and amulets filled my bag to the brim, I was about to leave when I wondered into a library.

And when I see books, I'm taken.

The walls were lined with tomes, old and new. They reached the ceiling and one would have to use a ladder to reach them. Each was neatly placed on dark maple bookshelves that had been mounted to the stone walls. I wanted to take them all so badly, but that is something I wouldn't do. If someone had stolen my books I would be heartbroken. I rarely have the luxury to enter another state of bliss with books, but once you find a good one in and have it in your possession, you will never want to put it down or let it go.

It's like entering another world. Who am I to take that away from anyone?

Instead I went to roam the Counts halls once more, albeit reluctantly. I soon came across his bedroom and crept inside. It was awful dark, but as far as I could tell he wasn't in there, so I began to search through his possessions for anything valuable. Everything was of course, but I was looking for specific things. Small things.

His room was, though dark, very _rich_ looking. He seemed to have taken a liking to the color red, most of his furniture was a velvet dark burgundy. One end of the room held an almost massive fireplace, its mantel had very odd but interesting engravings. Soot and ash littered the floors nearby it, I had to wonder if the maids were shirking their work.

In my hometown of Anvil, my parents house was not even the size of this room. But I much preferred our bright, humid, home to his darkened chamber. Even the woodwork of the furnishings was a deep, dark cherry wood or maple. The walls looked in some spots, as though at one time there may have had windows but now it was just a dark stone archway with heavy curtains to hide the odd structure.

I wanted to look around more, but this place made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up and I wasn't in the habit of sticking around when that happens. Opening my bag, I made my way over to his most expensive looking belongings.

I was going through his desk when I thought I heard something behind me. I carefully turned around and upon seeing no one, shrugged it off. But soon after I felt an odd tingling sensation creep up my spine followed by a sudden wave of near crippling nausea. It faded soon, but I once again turned around, there was still no one there, but I decided to leave anyway.

One can never be to careful, and I felt like I was being carefully watched.

xxxx

Holding the bag tightly I bit my bottom lip and was heading for the door when I looked down and noticed that to my horror, I was visible. I held my pale hands out in front of my face and froze. The scroll's time had not been up yet. I wrinkled my brow and recalled the odd sensation I had moments ago.

Strange sudden nausea, don't dispel charms make one nauseous?

No sooner had that thought came into my head did I feel someone yank my hood back. I whipped around and hastily made way to pull my hood back up when I stopped. Shocked beyond recognition, for my assailant had red eyes.

Eyes that belong to the undead.

Gasping I reached for my dagger and drew it out quickly, pointing it towards the glowering vampire. I didn't know how an undead had got into the castle, or how it found me for that matter. All I cared about was the scowl set on its face and the fact that it was advancing on me.

"Stay back!" I warned but the creature was not fazed, my threat went in one ear and out the other. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear the blood pulse in my ears "Don't come any closer or, I'll-"

The vampire scoffed "Or you'll what? What will you do _thief_?" Now that's a hypocritical statement if I ever heard one. But I was not about to tell that to an angry vampire, lest he start snapping at me.

"You would think that with all the damn rumors being spread around you thief's would know better than to enter my castle!" I blinked in confusion, "Your-" I squeaked, but I didn't finish what I was going to say for I tripped over my own feet and landed hard on the floor.

I have always been the most clumsy thief in Cyrodill, but my lack of agility only tends to show at the worst times.

I quickly, while facing the vampire, backed away on the floor. My dagger still in my right hand pointing straight at him, albeit shakily.

"Yes, yes I'm your count, and a vampire." he mocked quietly, "But I bet you weren't expecting _that_. Now perhaps if you followed the legal system, you wouldn't be in such a life threatening situation. Caught red handed _by_ a vampire, your not very lucky thief are you?"

He then quickly but casually flicked his wrist. I watched pathetically, as my dagger then flew out of my hand and sped toward the Count. He held out his hand for the silvery gleaming blade and caught it effortlessly. I heard rumors that the Count was a powerful wizard. I guess I should start heading rumors a bit more.

"Y-your Hassildor?!" I started, staring up at him dumbfounded, "That is Count Hassildor to you, girl." he snapped, his scarlet eyes locking onto my face. "Your awful slow to aren't you? But then I should have known that. Only a fool would break into here, don't you know the law?"

Honestly no, I never really asked someone about it. Being a thief, I could care less.

"Of course you don't," he stopped walking and tilted his head toward the side. "well then allow me to educate you." He started, crossing his arms behind his back, "Breaking into a Count palace is punishable by death. Pity, I do hope your little _excursion_ was worth it."

I was silent but utterly repulsed, _"Death?"_ I felt my stomach sink. I didn't want to believe that it was true, but I did not see any reason why the vampire, or Count Hassildor rather, would lie to me. But it now made sense why I had gotten such a valuable artifact from Korana,

The risk was high, so the pay was high.

I shook my head frantically, I had lost the urge to back away from him. I just sat on the floor staring up at him and shaking my head. I should have known better, I should have left while I had the chance. I have never been lucky. What was I thinking, robbing a recluse wizard?

I looked back toward the Count, he was just standing there watching me. He wasn't fazed by my now horrified expression, though I hadn't expected him to be. "No," I said weakly. I couldn't bring myself to say anything else really. All I wanted to do was shake my head and say; no, no, no.

Over and over again. It simply wasn't fair.

"Well, perhaps your death will prove to be useful to me. I daresay that I wont be bothered by the Thieves Guild for quite some time now." he paused and looked casually off to the side musing. The pause was discreetly allowing me to soak the horror of it all in.

I was to be the subject lesson to my guild. Trespass here, and you die. Short, sweet and to the point. But not fair, for me it never was. Sure I stole, I could give it back and do some time in a jail cell. Death? A small bag of gems is worth more than my life?

If I had known that I would have never entered the castle.

"No, take it back," I said as I cautiously pushed the bag of stolen goods over to him. My arms were beginning to shake, as if that simple movement had made me over exert myself. I quickly wrapped my arms around my torso, hugging myself to keep them from shaking further. He quirked his brow as he watched me. I was still on the floor, using what little dignity I had left to keep from groveling.

But truthfully, my willpower was failing fast.

"You think returning my possessions would honestly make me have a change in heart?" He snorted while prodded the bag with the toe of his shoe, "You didn't get to take much," he stated matter-of-factly, "but there is still enough in here to seal your fate at the guillotine."

My insides had begun to squirm. Guillotine. I have watched some die by it, that horrible device. Sometimes it doesn't immediately kill you, it takes to cutting falls. I could imagine myself being placed beneath the large sharp metal slab. Hearing the sliding sound that resonates off of the wood as the executioner raises the device…

The little dignity that I had fled. I was no longer holding on to pride. I wanted my life, I wanted to live I wanted my head! What have I done so far in my life that is so horrible that I deserve such a cruel demise?

"Please no!" I stammered, my bottom lip beginning to quiver. "Have mercy, I-I'll do jail time." I swallowed hard, though the lump forming in my throat made it difficult to do so, "Anything, anything at all just please, spare me!" I bit my lip mercilessly as hot tears had begun to streak down my cheeks, but I felt no shame in crying. This could be the last time I do it after all.

The Count just watched me unfazed, his expression blank, "No." he finally answered flatly after what seemed like forever. "I cant have you go to jail, not even the castle guards know of my condition. I cannot have you gossiping in the cells, my men are impressionable."

I found it so hard to believe that he could send me to die so easily. He spoke without emotion, but then again he was indeed a vampire. I doubt that I could appeal to his good will, he most likely doesn't have one. But it was that thought which had broken me, _"No good will, no way out alive." _

Sobs began to shake my entire body as I hugged myself with one arm and hid my face in my free hand. I was to die. You never really think of death until it's to late. My life was neither long or good, but it was my life, mine. It was the only thing I cold ever really fight for, and now it along with everything else was soon to be gone. Simply taken away.

Everything leaves me.

xxxx

Just then there was a loud bang on the door. The Count didn't even turn to face the noise, he just said, "Enter." and waited. A tall green Orc came in with a look of panic on his face. "Lord Hassildor," The Orc began hurriedly, "there has been a jail-" He then suddenly stopped, he must have saw me.

"Break? Yes I'm well aware Shum. But look what I have found, a little bandit." I didn't bother to look up, I couldn't. I just hid my face in my hands and cried like the world was ending.

Well, technically for me it was.

There was a short pause. In that time I could tell that the new company was trying to asses the odd situation. But like I said, it did not take him long to do so. "Shall I escort her to the cells sir?" I heard the Orc ask, peeking through my fingers I watched the Count shake his head.

"No, have her locked in one of the spare rooms. She knows what I am, and I cannot have her alone with the guards for long." There was another short pause, then the Orc finally spoke up, "My lord, come morning, what shall I do with her?"

"We'll keep her for questioning. See what part she played in the prison break. Then, call the executioner. I believe we will be having this one at the chopping block soon enough." The Orc had a slightly stony expression on his face as he walked over to me and took me by the arm, though gently.

"Sir," He began, "if it's not…To bold to say," I could sense the Orc's trepidation. But then again, when a vampire is glaring at you like that, I'm sure I would be hesitant to. "she is, but a child."

The Count quirked his brow and nodded. "I'm well aware."

That was all, he sent me and the Orc on our way. The Orc; Shum, didn't speak as he lead me through the dark castle, to my room to await my death.

xxxx

Authors Notes, (once again lol): Okay, I usually don't do notes at the end of my chapters, but the whole nausea and dispel charm thingy was my doing. I think it's safe to say that when someone would cast a big spell at you like that without you knowing it there would have to be some type of side effects. Ok I think that's all for now. Next chapter might be up within the week, I'm not sure though so no promises, :P


	4. Proposal and Deal

Authors Notes: Another chapter so soon? Why yes XD! So here you are, the non adventurous but controversial angsty (I know that's not a real word lol) tale that is; Love or Blood. I am officially using this story to better my writing skill so feel free to critique and comment, good or bad and thank you for the reviews!

Love or Blood

Chapter two: Proposal and Deal

I sat on the small bed in my dark room. Tears no longer fell from my eyes. I couldn't cry anymore but Gods above, I wanted to. My whole body was shaking with dry painful sobs. I had every reason in the world to cry, in just a few hours I was going to die.

I wondered whether or not the sun had risen yet, surely hours had past by now. I've been near the point of retching on several occasions, and holding back has worn me out. I was so tired and wanted to sleep, but if these were to be my final hours I wanted to spend them doing something productive.

"Like crying?" I asked myself aloud, "Crying never solved anything." my sister had taught me that. Look where it got her, miserable. I sniffled loudly, maybe if I go to sleep I can spend what little time I had left in a pleasant dream.

Here's hoping.

Slowly I laid down on the rickety cot and closed me eyes. Waiting for sleep to take me, preying it would come to me quickly. Luck may have not been on my side earlier this evening, but it was with me now, as I fell into a deep sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

xxxx

I awoke several hours later to the sound of the door banging open. I sat up quickly and was soon approached by two guards. "Lets go." one of them said as he grabbed me by the arm. I saw no point to struggle so I allowed myself to be handled like a rag doll.

They brought me into a small room with a oak desk and two chairs. It was a rather fancy room for interrogation in my opinion. But I have only been in one once before, it was in Bravil, which may explain why this one is nicer.

One guard slapped a set of iron shackles to my wrists and pushed me down in a chair. I watched him carefully as he strode in front of me and leaned down. "Well, I'm afraid I wont be the ones to have the pleasure of questioning you." He said as he reached up to toy with my hair.

I just then secretly wished that the Count bit me last night. With sharp pointy teeth, I could bite through this guards steel gauntlets and rip his hand wide open. I had to settle for a glare though instead. "The Count himself wishes to do so, in here, a rather nice room in my opinion." he drew back and gestured to the room, I had to wonder if there was another location in the castle where interrogation place, and if so why was I put in this nice one? I began to gnaw on my bottom lip.

I would much prefer the disgusting guard in a cell than a heartless vampire in a tidy but confined room. At least the guard had a pulse if nothing else. "Lucky man." The guard stated as his eyes began to sweep over me. I hated being looked at, especially by men. I'm not sexist, but it's the way they always stare at me. It's unnerving and it makes my skin want to crawl off of my bones. I almost feel naked by it, and it's why I like to wear cloaks.

He left then though, I'm not sure whether or not that's a good or bad thing, for I was now alone in a dark room, shackled and waiting for a vampire. Whom, had so easily sentenced me to death. Needless to say I was scared, and soon found myself rattling the chain link on the cuffs solely to put my attention on something.

I wasn't waiting very long though, in a matter of minutes I heard the door creak open. I immediately froze as I listened to the footfalls draw nearer, a cold sweat beading along my brow. My every muscle seemed to tighten, I couldn't breath or think. He came into my line of vision but I didn't look up, I simply stared at my shackles while holding my breath.

The Count took the seat across from me. He folded his hands on the desk, almost as if he were praying and watched me. I could feel his eyes sweeping over my face, but I did not move or react in any manner. I pretended that he wasn't even there. Like he, the room, and my irons didn't exist.

I have had years of perfecting that skill.

However, he easily managed to snap me out of my head by simply speaking, no one has been able to do that to me in quite some time. "So here we are, what do you have to say for yourself girl?" He spoke much softer to me than he had the night before, but I had a feeling it was that; good cop, bad cop method.

I didn't look up or answer so he continued, "I'm going to ask you a few questions and you are to answer them truthfully." I still didn't move, but I was unsure whether or not it was from stubbornness or fear. Perhaps it was an odd mixture of both. I swallowed hard and though I was pretending that he didn't exist, subconsciously held onto his every word.

"I can tell if your lying, so I wouldn't recommend it." there was another short pause followed by him sighing heavily. It was a very normal exasperated sound, I honestly didn't know vampires could do that. "I would start talking girl, your life depends on it."

That of course, grabbed my attention.

I quickly looked up. "What?" I asked slowly, my own voice and the Counts statement shocked me. Depends on it, that means I may have a chance of living. The Thieves Guild will just have to understand my reason for spilling the beans this time. I have been a loyal guild member up until now, and it's not like they have never ratted out me before.

An eye for an eye I suppose.

"Well, now that I have your attention I may just make a deal with you." I couldn't help but to quirk my brow, making a deal with a vampire didn't sound like a very smart move to me, but that however did not get me to stop him from continuing. "If you provide me this service, I may just spare your life." I pressed myself back further into the chair my brow furrowed. _"What type of service could a vampire want?" _

All hour access to my throat seems the logical assumption.

Obviously I was skeptical. He quickly noticed this though and shook his head. "I'm not usually one to make a deal with a thief so lets make the terms clear." I managed to nod but still kept a careful eye on the man before me,

Wait no, vampire. Hard to honestly tell though when he's not so angry.

"If you answer my every question truthfully I may be, _lenient_ on your punishment." Lenient, it was better than dead, so I nodded in agreement. "Good," he said moving toward the edge or his chair, "then lets get started."

xxxx

He watched me carefully as he asked his first question. "Were you the one who freed the Argonian prisoner?" I started to shake my head when he held up a hand to stop me. "I need to _hear_ you answer the question."

"_Oh." _I took a deep gulp of air. Speak, I could do that. "No, I-I wasn't the one." he waited a moment and I began to flay my bottom lip. Soon though, he nodded. I had a strange feeling he was listening for something. Perhaps a vampires hearing is better than the livings.

"Alright then, did you help in some way?" I began to bite on my bottom lip harder as I looked up. "Y-yes I did." he eloquently quirked his brow and sat back in the chair folding his hands in his lap. "How?"

I began to wring my cuffed hands and looked up at him pleadingly. "I snuck her in. I didn't know exactly what we were supposed to do," the look he gave me told me to go on. So I did, but in an almost frantic manner. "She said he was her friend, I followed the blood. We, we found a passage."

He looked interested and didn't stop me from rambling. I found it hard to make heads or tales of what I was saying. He however didn't seem the least bit confused. "I needed money, but she. She, she gave me this!" I stammered as I pulled the old scroll from my pocket. I held it out in front of me with both hands, the shackles prevented me from doing otherwise.

He looked at it and then me before carefully plucking it from my hands. At first he held it like it was a solid rag, but I watched as his head slowly tilted to the side. He squinted at the parchment and then his head snapped toward me so quickly I jumped.

"Do you know what this is?" his garnet colored eyes locked onto my pale green ones, they caused me to recoil slightly. I wasn't used to talking with red eyed vampires. Well, actually I'm not used to talking to anyone really, no matter what the color of their iris is.

"The Scroll of the Thief?" I said cautiously, the Count huffed and nodded as he looked back toward the paper. "Indeed it is, or shall I say was." I watched him as he carefully folded the crumpled parchment and then placed the used scroll in his shirt pocket, I couldn't help but wonder what he would do with it.

It was useless now right?

"It rightfully belonged to the Arch-mage; Hannibal Traven, did you know that?" I shook my head but soon stopped and remembered to speak, "No, sir I didn't." there was a short pause as I watched him lean back in his chair. He began to rub is chin and look off to the side, as if he was deeply contemplating something. Then to my surprise made a sound that resembled a very weary laugh.

"I was beginning to wonder why he was in such a bad mood lately." sighing he sat upright and rubbed his temples, "The one who freed the Argonian," he began, "do you know their name, or perhaps where they are now?" I bit my lip again as looked up at him.

"No. I only know her thief name sir. But as to where she lives," I gave a small shrug, "I have no idea. I'm not very connected to the guild." their was a long pause, during that time all he did was watch me. I tried to ignore his glowing red gaze to the best of my ability.

Obviously it was not an easy task.

"That's not surprising." he stated slowly, "your still just a baby." it was not made as an insult, but I still didn't like to be referred to as a _baby_, I am twenty years old and have taken care of myself and others for many years now, and though I may be young I sometimes feel as old as Tiber Septim himself. I looked up at him, "I like to think of myself as a young woman, sir." he let out another small laugh under his breath.

"You could say that, but I still have at least seventy years on you girl." I felt my brows knit together as I looked at him in disbelieve. At first I thought that it was some sort of joke, but then I remembered that if he was bitten at a young age he would mainly stay the same forever.

I cant help but wonder if that is a blessing or curse. Maybe both.

xxxx

The room was silent for awhile. Neither of us spoke, the Count had a puzzled look on his face as he watched me rattling my chains. My bloodshot eyes were still stinging even in the dim light. I was in the middle of mustering up the courage to ask him what time it was when I heard him speak softly.

"I cant let you go." I looked up at him. What had he meant by that, was he going back on the deal and going to kill me anyway? I felt my stomach harden along with all my other insides. He sat back in his chair but continued, looking off to the side and speaking mainly to himself.

"If I put you in a jail cell you could…let something slip. The people are always curious, and even if you swore that you would never tell a soul of my condition." he stopped and looked back at me intensely, "Accidents happen, you'd be surprised how persuasive some may be." that I didn't doubt.

I thought of the guard who brought me in here. I had a feeling that the Count was talking mainly about pigs like him and their sick methods of getting information out of you.

I've heard many stories about the guards and legion.

I shifted, if he wasn't going to send me off to jail than he would have no other choice than to kill me. I wish that there was some type of magic that could make me forget that I saw him, maybe then he would set me free. I cooperated well enough, maybe I should ask him to hit me over the head a couple of times with a milk pale.

But now I'm being silly. He doesn't strike me as the type to bludgeon a girl over the head with a bucket.

Then again, you never know.

My bottom lip was near the point of being bitten off as I looked at him. If I was going to die, well fine. Nothing can be done, he did say though that he would be lenient. Maybe I could have my death of choice. I sighed heavily as a familiar lump began to form at the back of my throat.

"Sir," I said quietly, tears once again welled up in my eyes as I fought back the urge to ball again.

"If, if I have to…you know die." I looked away, I really didn't want to die. If you haven't guessed by now, death is my biggest fear. I have had several run-ins with it, and I was petrified of it. The feeling that washes over you, your fuzzy head and the blackness.

I have always been a fighter, but you cant fight death.

"Please could, could you do it in some other way? I would like to be, _whole _before the end." I felt my eyes begin to burn as my hot tears fell freely, they streaked down my cheeks at almost lightning speed but I kept my voice calm and did not sob, nor sniffle. "Once I'm dead you can just dump me in the river or give my corpse to necromancers for all I care." That was true. Once I'm dead, I'm dead. I just would rather go with my head attached.

There was a long pause. I closed my eyes, I still did not sob or shake but the tears fell. Who am I to stop them from doing so?

"Foolish girl," he said, his face was stern but his eyes had a new type of glint about them. I couldn't tell what it was, but I didn't find it at all threatening. "I cannot dump you in a river for your decay would pollute it." I brought up my arms and rubbed my eyes on my sleeve. _"Gross." _

"Nor can I give you to necromancers. I am strongly against their strange practice and besides that," now I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw him fighting back the urge to smile at what he was about to say, "I would much prefer not having your mummified corpse coming to seek it's revenge on me in the dead of night."

I found a heavy dose of irony in that statement, wasn't I just a few hours ago imagining a skeleton me with its long red hair blowing in the breeze while traipsing around the alleyways of Skingrad? Now he was picturing the dread zombie me running through his halls. Fate is funny, if the circumstances were different I may have laughed.

He leaned back in his chair as I watched him with a odd curiosity. "If those were my only two options with your death, then I am afraid that I choose the latter." my eyes widened. _"Is he going to let me live?" _he scratched his chin, lips pursed in thought. "I will not overlook the law, but instead of death you are to serve a life sentence. I believe that is fair."

I was now obviously, very confused, _"I thought he said I couldn't go to jail." _I was so near the edge of my seat that I came dangerously close to falling off my chair, I bit the inside of my cheek instead of my bottom lip, I doubted it could take anymore abuse tonight. "You are to spend the rest of your days as my servant in the castle."

As quickly as I came to the edge of my chair I sat back with speed tenfold. Pressing myself into the chairs wood work. Several warning signs were flashing angrily in the back of my head.

The Count didn't look the least bit shocked or even seem to acknowledge my sudden change in posture as he went on. "We don't have many servants here in castle Skingrad, and with my state honest help is hard to come by." he then nodded in agreement to himself, "There is always need for an extra hand."

"_Or Artery," _I should be grateful that he spared me, and don't get me wrong I am. But I cannot help but to be skeptical. I was to learn to trust a vampire. I suppose it is fair, after all he is trusting a thief. But whatever I was to do I'm sure it's better than death. Like I said I am a fighter and I will do whatever it takes to keep my head attached to my neck.

I nodded, slowly at first then a bit quicker. Questions began to buzz through my mind, but I didn't speak. I really wanted to, no I had to. I forced my mouth open and the first question that was in my head came tumbling unceremoniously from my lips, "What do I have to do?"

"Do?" he paused eyeing me curiously, "Cook, clean, you are to be a maid. What, did you think that I was going to use you as my new blood source?" he quirked his brow and stood. Placing a hand over his mouth, most likely to hide a sardonic smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I couldn't help but to wonder why he did that. He seemed to want to hide his emotions constantly behind his hand. I knew that people of high status were supposed to be civilized but aren't they allowed to have facial expression? Or was he merely trying to hide the slight point of his fang once he smiled or scowled.

Maybe he does it for both those reasons.

I felt myself blush, did I think I was to become the Counts personal blood bag? _"Yes that is exactly what I was thinking." _of course I wouldn't tell him that. So, instead I just watched him as he walked over to me. "I think it would be wise if we tell no one of your terms of service." I slowly nodded.

"The rest of the staff would not think to highly of you. They will most likely be criticizing your presence here anyway." he turned on his heel and went to the door. "My most trusted staff members will need to know of course. I believe it's only fair to have you under watch." once again I nodded, I don't know why though, he had his back to me.

Can he see what's behind him?

"Wait here, you will soon be escorted to the maids quarters and introduced as a new servant girl." He took hold of the door handle, but just as he did so I heard myself involuntarily squeak once more, "Thank you." At first I didn't think he heard me, I wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't. I was still to shocked at the fact that I was safe, no longer doomed, that I didn't realize that I had just spoken freely.

And of all the people, to a vampire.

The Count simply nodded and left the room. I was alone in the darkness once more, but I have never found such comfort in it as I had right then.

xxxx

Sure enough some time later I was greeted by the familiar Orc; Shum, and a new female Argonian who's face I had never seen before. They came into the room and both looked down at me. The Argonian's gaze was a bit colder and more calculating than the Orc's, but I didn't mind really.

Honestly I would have been shocked if the were all to greet me with open arms.

"Well, I guess it's nice to know that the Count changed his mind about you." Shum said as he pulled me to my feet. "Wasn't entirely expecting him to show you such hospitality though." I nodded to him, staring down at my feet.

There was a very distinct huffing sound coming from behind me, "Hospitality? She's was a thieve, and is now a slave. A bit of an odd switch wouldn't you say?" it was the Argonian, she walked in front of me with a key to my shackles in her scaly green hand.

I didn't know how Argonian's age, but she seemed a bit old, and awful cranky. She had two fins, one on each side of her head and both were studded with old fashioned, golden jewelry. The red markings under her eyes made me only believe more that she was rather high up in years for her species. "Aw come on now Hal, cut the girl some slack." Shum placed a big green hand on my shoulder and gave it a friendly yet comforting shake. I didn't move with it though. I kept as still as a statue.

"She's had a rough night, just look at her." he pushed me slightly closer to the Argonian and I nearly fell. _"Rough night, gee thanks."_ His push wasn't as strong as my body made it out to be, but I was just out of energy. The Argonian crossed her arms and clucked her tongue either at his manners or my fumbled posture.

"That is Hal-Liurz, to you Mr. gro-Yarug." her strangely orange, red reptilian eyes then snapped to me. "And yes I can see she's worked herself into a state. She had spent the entire night thinking she was about to have her head chopped off." she paused and brushed off the sleeve of her green brocade shirt, "Would you be all sunshine and rainbows in her predicament? I daresay, no."

I heard the Orc grumbling something under his breath like; 'fetching lizard', but she and I ignored it. "Well than come on girl, you smell like filth. You need a bath and judging by the way you stand, food and lots of it. Once your in a better state of mind I'll start explaining how we run things around here."

She nodded to the Orc and he put his hand in-between my shoulder blades and led me out of the interrogation room. I massaged my now free wrists and walked in silence as I began to wonder what I was to do as a maid.

Cook, and clean. That is what the Count had said I was to do, but that all seemed just far to easy. It feels like I have cheated death, and I suppose I have in a sense. But what is to become of me now? It's not like I had much to live for, but what of the thieves guild? Will they do anything about my sudden disappearance?

"_I doubt it."_ They never really have cared for me and as I told the Count I had never been close to the guild or any of it's members. It was my doing, I never wanted such companions for what could they give me but trouble and warrants. I suppose that part of my life is over now. Here I am, the new me Abigale Lynn, servant and slave to the vampiric Count of Skingrad.

It is certainly an odd change. I do hope it's for the better.


	5. Formal Introduction

Authors Notes: I'm really starting to get into this fic, I honestly think it is helping my writing skills as I just got the highest grade _ever_ (for me, hehe,) on an English quiz . Thank you to everyone who reads or reviews this. I'm still not so sure how dark this will turn out, so be prepared it could get…ugly :x (not until later on of course lol) if I do decide to bump up the rating I'll let you know in advance. I need to listen to loud music or something to get the creepy ideas going XD, I have never written anything really dark before, its tough! lol R+R please.

Love or Blood

Chapter three: Formal Introduction

We walked through the castle halls in silence. I wanted to look around, but my head felt so heavy that just the mere thought of looking up made my neck ache. Instead, I studied the carpets on the stone floors. All were deep burgundy with thin black patterns running along the sides, they distinctly resembled the interior of the Counts room. The carpets felt so soft through my thin shoes, I had to fight the urge to fall onto them and sleep.

The Argonian; Hal-Liurz's tail in front of me was swinging side to side like a pendulum. I found myself slowly nodding off if I stared to long at it. For some reason it seemed to put me in a state that closely resembled hypnosis. I bit down hard on my bottom lip so the pain would snap me out of it and jolt me awake. My lips must look as though they had been put through a meat grinder by now.

Our silence was soon broken though when Shum decided to speak. "Is she really going to be a slave? I thought they were illegal here in Cyrodiil." I barley looked up, only partially acknowledging that they were talking about me. At that moment I could care less, as long as I could get some sleep I would be happy. "Technically, no. Slavery is against the law but this was her choice, so it will be overlooked by the empire. That is, if the Count decides to tell anyone of her decision."

I found it strange that I had become a willing slave. I never thought before that anyone would do such a thing, but as I said so many time before; I am a fighter. If I have to fight grease stains out of pans to save my life then so be it.

"Bad publicity?" Shum asked from behind me as we stopped at a large wooden door. There was a pause, in that time the Argonian turned to face him, while going through a ring of keys. "You had better believe it. You know how that Mages Guild gets." Shum grunted in agreement as he gently pushed me forward towards the door.

Hal-Liurz then took me by the arm and led me inside. I could tell that this was the maids quarters, everything seemed old and worn, but livable nonetheless. Which is much more than I was used to. Hal began to Shepherd me to the other end of the living area, she pushed open yet another wooden door and shoed me inside.

I walked in and looked about. There were many stall like compartments built into the walls here. Each was large enough for an average size person to stand in, and had a large wooden tub placed inside. "Do you know how to work enchanted tubs girl?" Hal said coming up from behind me. She handed me a large bundle that looked like a pile of rags as I shook my head.

She rolled her eyes and hastily made her way to one of the stalls, beckoning me to follow her. I did, though without someone's hand constantly on me for support, I was awful wobbly and almost fell. She saw this and quirked her brow. "Your not going to fall asleep and drown in the tub if I leave you alone, are you?" I rubbed my eyes with my fist "No miss, I wont."

Huffing, she crossed her arms, "I'm not that convinced, and stop rubbing your eyes girl, it's bad for your sight." I did indeed stop, but it was more out of annoyance. Who was she to tell me what to do? I believe I signed my life over to the Count, not some ornery old reptile.

Forgive me, I'm not a racist, just very irritable.

"Now watch what I do," she started, as she placed her hand on the tubs rim. "just imagine the temperature and depth you want the water." She closed her eyes for a moment and I watched as water began to slowly appear inside the basin. Almost like there was an invisible person pouring water inside.

"Once you get out the water will vanish, so don't forget anything." She straightened and went for the door as I held back the need to roll my eyes. I have a tendency to think about what it would be like to have the gull to tell people off, it's just not in my nature. I could never be so bold or rude, I sometimes wish I was though.

"I'll go fetch you some new clothes to wear, I expect you to be done when I return." I nodded and watched her go, only when I heard the door latch click behind her did I start to undress. I didn't want anyone to see me naked, I'm not bashful but I don't think its polite to flash someone you have just met.

And besides, I don't want anyone to see my scars.

xxxx

I pulled off my gloves and greaves. The leathers certainly weren't comfortable, nor did they really protect me from much harm but they were all that I could honestly wear. I don't think I'm the type of girl who would be able to maneuver well in chain mall. It may be light armor but for me, it's rather heavy. I then cast them, my cloak, and all my other clothing articles aside. Tugging the knot from my hair, I stared at my reflection in the tub.

I looked so mangled. Two large sad aquamarine eyes stared back at me, my red hair tousled, cascading on my shoulders and running down my back. Dark purple and pink lacerations adorned my pale skin. My scars, constant reminders of what it's like to be a thief who lives on the street.

Sighing heavily I climbed into the tub. It had been awhile since I had last taken a good bath, so the shockingly hot water was welcomed heartily as I settled down. I made quick work of scrubbing myself, I didn't have to long to wash and I wasn't keen on wallowing in my own filth. Next time though I want to enjoy my bath, if I have the opportunity of course.

Count could always be a loon, may not allow me that luxury.

Once I was finished I quickly emerged from the tub, steam was whispering at my skin as I stood and made my way over to the bundle Hal-Liurz had handed me earlier. Upon inspection, I discovered it was indeed a towel. I dried myself off and wrapped it around my torso. It wasn't long enough to cover a rather large gash mark up my calf, but at the moment I wasn't going to complain.

I don't think I should.

As soon as I had the towel securely wrapped around me I heard the door open. Turning on the spot I saw Hal coming toward me with another arm full of linens. "You will have to make due with this for now, its all I could get." She handed me the pile and I eagerly took it from her.

Hammy downs or not, I wanted to be dressed.

She was about to leave me so I could change when her eyes fell upon my leg. "How did you do that?" she asked rather flatly. It was one of my oldest scars, I had gotten it on my way to Skingrad. Nevertheless, I wasn't in the mood to talk about it. "Wolf, wouldn't let go."

I then turned my back to her, a sign to end the discussion. Thankfully she took the hint, and left me to change in the stall.

Gingerly poking through the clothes, I noted how soft the fabrics felt on my calloused hands. They were all made of simple cotton material, but it was a nice change from the stitched coarse garments I am usually forced to wear. I pulled the dark green blouse over my head and the brown skirts soon followed. She didn't give me any new shoes, so I had to wear my bloody soiled quilted ones.

As I pulled them on I froze. Blood, were these stupid shoes what gave me away? Can vampires smell blood? It seemed logical, and I had to laugh at my own stupidity. Most of the rumors had to do with the Count being some type of blood drinker, I was the only idiot who thought otherwise and paraded around castle Skingrad with crimson Argonian soaked shoes.

"What's so funny? Are you decent girl?" Hal must have thought that I went insane. Come to think of it, a girl forced into servitude who laughs manically for no apparent reason would make one question her sanity. I quickly composed myself, and opened the stall door. "Yes, yes. I'm fine."

She looked me over skeptically, her scaly brows stitched together. "I do hope so," she crossed her arms and rubbed her snout. "we wouldn't want to have to ship you off to one of those new asylums." I froze, mentally noting to never laugh in her presence again. "No, I'm fine just thinking is all." I said quickly, that's one place I would never want to be,

I heard there terrible. Recently made facility like prisons to interrogate and hold cultists, necromancers and Daedra worshippers, the ones that are expected to be blood drinkers anyway.

"Good, but don't do it often." she reached into her pocket and pulled out a green lace ribbon, "The Count enjoys his silence, it could put you in a bad spot to start laughing while he's reading or something of that like." I nodded. The Count and I seem to have that in common, lovers of silence. That rule I could abide by just fine.

"Here put your hair up, it gets in the way of work." I mentally groaned, _"Work already, cant I sleep first?" _She seemed to have read my mind though as she quickly added, "Once we get some food in you, I am to present you to the Count. After that, you may rest" I felt myself flinch once she said 'Count' and couldn't repress it.

I know he's been good to me thus far, but he _is _a vampire.

Hal-Liurz saw this and wrinkled her snout so it resembled what I thought was a scowl. "You best mind your manners around him girl." She snapped, "The Count has shown you great kindness; he spared your life, but could still just as easily snuff it out." My insides began to squirm uncontrollably, I never thought of that. He could change his mind at any moment.

Rest assured, I shall be on my best behavior.

xxxx

Back in the maids quarters, Hal forced me to eat an entire loaf of bread, several very large potatoes and two slabs of mutton. I ate it all without to much trouble really, but the fact that I was to constantly mind myself or forsake my life made it hard to swallow.

"Good, your all set then?" she asked as I pushed my plate away for about the fifth time, secretly relived that she didn't load it up with food again. I looked towards her and nodded, "Yes miss, I am." She motioned for me to stand. With a full belly I stood easier, but exhaustion made me sway slightly. "Right then, before we see the Count, I think you should meet your new superiors." she turned and began to walk toward the door with me following close behind her.

"_Superiors?" _they sounded threatening enough. I swallowed hard and bit my lip as Hal led me through the castle. We finally stopped by an open doorway and heard what I thought was two girls arguing. Hal sighed heavily as she went through her now familiar ring of keys, "Gods blood, those two will be the death of me." She mumbled as we entered the room.

"You best shut your damn mouth! Just because he's not as tall as you Nord's don't mean he's got a small-" Sure enough, standing in the room having a shouting match was a middle aged Nordic woman and a young Redguard girl. Whom upon seeing me and Hal enter, quickly stopped shouting and curtsied.

"Ah, hello stewardess," The Nord said quickly as she gave her apron a good patting down. "we didn't here you come in ma'am, Rheena and I were just discussing-" Hal held up a hand to silence the her, "Whatever you were discussing Tualga, I am sure I don't want to know." I watched as the Redguard's eyes slowly drifted to me. She nudged the Nord; Tualga, and soon her gaze followed.

"Is that the, erm new girl?" I heard Rheena ask, I was trying my best not to look at them. I could tell by the way she spoke of me she knew that I was the lucky thief, whom the Count took pity on. Hal nodded and pushed me forward, "Yes this is miss…Hmm. Girl what is your name?"

I cleared my throat and began to wring my hands. "Ab…Abigale Lynn." My bottom lip was now once again, being flayed. I haven't introduced myself as; Abigale Lynn in such a long time that it felt alien to do so. Nervously I glanced up, the girl; Rheena was attempting to smile. "That's a pretty name." She said softly. I gave a small nod, not daring to smile.

With my bottom lip in a death grip, I would look like a demented chipmunk.

"Aye, but it's far to long," Tualga said stepping forward to shake my hand, "I'll be calling you Abby from now on." Up close, I could see her more clearly. As a Nord; she toward over me, perhaps she was six foot seven, maybe a bit taller. She had a blotchy pinkish complexion, pale blue eyes and curly blond hair that framed her rounded face.

She was a Nord through and through, and by her accent I could tell she must have lived up in Skyrim at one point.

"No, not Abby, Lynn. Yeah, there's not to many Lynn's here nowadays you know." She shook my hand, at first I was a bit shocked at her warm greeting, but I quickly decided to welcome it the best I could. After all, friends are far better than enemies in my opinion. Maybe I wont have to be much of a loner anymore, if I'm safe that is.

"I'm Tualga; head maid, and this," she said gesturing to the other young woman, "Is Rheena, my right hand." Rheena walked over to me and thrust her arm out, gently pushing Tualga aside. "That is me miss Lynn, and you are to be my, right hand." I nodded, I could do that, she seemed friendly enough.

"Technically, she'll be your right and my left." Tualga said placing her hands on her hips. Rheena clucked her tongue and rolled her honey colored eyes. "No one asked for your two septims Nord." she muttered under her breath. Then turning to wink at me, she stood on her tiptoes and patted Tualga on the head.

"Don't worry, we're just playing, we don't really hate each other." Tualga laughed, "Aye, hate is to strong a word." I watched Hal out of the corner of my eye, she was pinching the bridge of her snout and shaking her head. "Alright then," she began wearily, "I just wanted her to meet you. Go set up the spare bed in your room, she'll be staying in there with the two of you."

"Good!" Rheena exclaimed, "I am in desperate need of someone other than this barbarian to talk to." Tualga shot her a glare and went to comment, but before I could hear whatever she was about to say, Hal was pushing me from the room. "See you later on Lynn!" one shouted to me, but I couldn't decipher who the voice belonged to for the Stewardess quickly shut the door.

xxxx

Hal led me down the dark corridors once again, and I found myself nervously wringing my shirts hem. I walked with my head bowed and my stomach in as many knots as my now crumpled blouse. The castle seemed so ominous on the inside as well as out. The blood red tapestries that clung to every wall did little to improve it's dark demeanor, instead it made the castle walls look as if they were bleeding.

Thus, I kept my head down.

"Your to be brief." Hal said as we entered the large door which I had broken into earlier this evening, or was it last night? I never did find out the time.

We stood in the main hallway of the Counts manner, my lip was nearly split in two as I looked up toward Hal. "He wishes to see you only to make certain that you could pass as a castle maid," She stared at me, as if reading my mind. "nothing more."

Perhaps she really was a mind reader for I was debating on whether or not I should go see him with my hands clamped protectively around my neck. Her comment; 'nothing more', told me that I did not have to take that precaution. I felt a small bit of relief and managed to nod. She turned on her heel and pointed forward, "I believe you know your way from here. I shall wait at this spot, come back once he's finished with you."

I swallowed hard, the little comfort I had vanished. _"Finished with me?"_ I timidly began to walk the hallways past his library, studies and spare rooms. All were foreboding, as if mocking me for I had just mere hours ago, wandered through them with pride and ignorance. Now here I was, creeping down them as if to my doom.

Hopefully, I wont be smeared on the walls before the nights end.

I stood there in front of his doorway. The dark wooden doors seemed frighteningly large now. My hands shakily grasped the circular brass knocker. I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I debated on whether or not I should carefully let go and try to run as far away from his room as possible.

I really did not want to let the brass knocker fall and alert the Count. But taking a deep breath I found myself gently tapped the knocker to the wood work three times. _Clunk, clunk, clunk._ The sound had never before stilled my heart so. Prickles ran up my spine as I swallowed hard and waited for a reply, but wishing that one would never come.

But did any of my wishes ever come true? I'm afraid not.

"You may enter." I heard the Count call from the other side of the door. My entire body immediately froze, I became another statue to add to the Counts vast collection. Breaking myself from my stupor I looked down the hallway, half hoping that someone else had said those three little words. But no, I was alone.

I obediently, yet reluctantly pushed open the door. It groaned loudly, and weighed a ton. Because of the enchantments I had over me earlier the door had not made a sound. But upon hearing how loud it really was I could see why the Count rarely left his room. If I had a door was like this one, always loud and shockingly heavy, I would sooner starve to death then have to push the nuisance open everyday.

His room was dark, the only light was coming from the large crackling fireplace. I clung to the door and timidly stepped into the room. Unlike last time when I had broken in, I saw the Count. Well, rather his silhouette, I could not be entirely sure if he was facing me or his fire place. But once he gestured for me to come closer, it became apparent that he was indeed facing me.

That or vampires are double jointed.

"Come here girl." he said, his voice tired. I intertwined my fingertips and held my hands splayed over my stomach, keeping them as close to my throat as possible without giving myself away. The Count tilted his head to the side as I walked over to him. Standing in front of him with my head bowed and my gaze fixed on my stained shoes, I began gnawing my bottom lip, my stomach doing flip flops.

When one is being studied so closely by a vampire I believe it natural to be nervous. I kept myself from shaking but could not stop myself from wringing the hem of my blouse further. Cautiously I risked a glance up at him. He was rather tall, and because of the odd angle of the fireplace's light my eyes had begun to adjust a bit more to the dark, so I could make out more then just his scarlet eyes.

He had dark black hair; the color of obsidian with a ghostly white complexion to contrast it. Aside from the deep bags under his eyes and slightly gaunt features he looked relatively young, perhaps he had contracted porphyric hemophilia when in his late thirties or early forties.

If someone was to glance him quickly they would be none the wiser of his condition and pass him off as your everyday nobleman. For he was a vision of wealth and authority; whether it was the way he kept his hair combed back and neat, or the black and burgundy velvet outfit he wore, he just seemed to emanate gold, power.

xxxx

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and turned my head to the side slightly, but upon doing so I noticed that I had unintentionally exposed my neck to him. _"Don't do that he'll surely drain you dry!" _Quickly I snapped my head back into it's original place, bowed and staring at the floor. My muscles in my shoulders tightened, my back somewhat hunched as I looked up again, albeit slowly.

The Count either did not notice or care about my sudden jerky, shaky head movements, as he watched me unfazed. Had I been born less shy and more blunt I may have asked why he was still staring at me. But Alas I am neither, so all I could do is stare back.

I couldn't look him in the eyes though, for fear of turning to stone by his never wavering gaze, so I settled for staring at his shirts collar. Memorizing the odd gold and burgundy designs sewn into the black velvet. I soon noticed though that his chest and throat were still. He wasn't breathing, I know I should have expected that, but it shocked me nonetheless.

I would have gasped or may have even commented, but he spoke first and broke me from my stunned state.

He seems to have a tendency to do that.

"I suppose you'll do," he said calmly. I looked up at him, slowly trying to absorb the fact that the man before me was, indeed dead. Well, in the sense that he has no pulse or need to breath. I guess the term undead does fit vampires.

"You are sworn to secrecy, no one is to know of how you came here." I nodded and opened my mouth to agree, but no words would come out though I willed them to do so. "Your superiors and my most trusted staff members are all who know of your…unique servitude and predicament." he chose his last few words rather cautiously, not really wanting to use the term; willing enslavement.

"We are to keep it that way, understood?" I nodded and forced myself to choke out a several syllables, "Yes sir, I-I wont tell anyone." he folded his arms behind his back and nodded, "Good, now what's your name girl?" This wasn't a friendly notion or introduction, I could tell by the way he asked the question that he only wanted to know the answer so he could decide what to call me, or refer to me as rather.

"Abigale Lynn, sir." I said while twiddling my thumbs and looking off to the side. Even my name sounds as shy as I am. He paused and arched his brow, "Is Lynn the surname?" I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head. "No sir, I don't have a surname." I watched his eyes fall to my chest and rest upon the hollow of my throat. It was my turn to not breath, my eyes widened and I felt my breath hitch, _"Is, is he going to bite me?"_ I swallowed hard and watched him carefully.

But the Count then nodded and looked back at me, "Well, your not lying so I will not force one out of you." At first I didn't understand how he knew whether or not I was lying, but as I thought about it I remembered my mother telling me once, that there was a physical reaction of the body when one lies.

She had always been a good healer but a lousy mother. At least her medical knowledge proved reliable, for I think my heart may beat irregularly when I lie or something of that like. It would explain the Counts actions, and why he needs to hear me speak to decipher whether or not I am telling the truth.

"You are dismissed then girl." he said as he turned and walked toward the fireplace. I watched him take a seat on his dark burgundy sofa and stare into the flames as I left. He looked like a rather…sad man sitting alone in front of the flickering light.

Sad, but overwhelming. I was relived to leave his room and quickly close the groaning door behind me.


	6. Castle Skingrad

Authors Notes: Wow! Thank you all for the reviews! I never thought that anyone would like this so much lol. Sense I got so many reviews I have decided to post this chapter up earlier than planned XD. So here you are and thanks again, they really mean a lot! (As a quick heads-up.) There will be no Hassildor in this chapter. It's mainly letting you get the feel of what Abigale's new life is going to be like without me going over her routine in every upcoming chapter. :P You also get to know a bit about Countess Rona and how the castle was before she got 'sick'. R+R is welcomed with open arms XD! More notes at end of chapter :P

Love or Blood

Chapter four: Castle Skingrad

Hal-Liurz brought me back to the maids quarters right after I had met again with the Count. Thankfully we didn't speak at all on our way through the castle. I wasn't in the mood really to talk to anyone, I was tired and just praying for a warm comfortable bed.

What I got was neither warm nor comfortable. But it was a bed, so who was I to complain? Just like the Stewardess had told me, I was to share a room in the maids quarters with Tualga and Rheena. I didn't mind, for they were sleeping in their own little beds in the small four cornered room when I had arrived.

My bed was farthest from the door, almost hidden in shadow. Each of our sleeping cots were stuck in the corners of the room, there were only three beds though, and the only corner without a bed in it was the entrance to our room.

Small and cluttered, old and worn, but it was more than anything I was used to.

I had no pajamas, so all I did was take off my shoes and let down my hair for bed. The sheets were thin and not very warm, so I curled myself into a ball and rolled onto my side, facing the wall. If I wasn't so tired I may have stayed up and went through my thoughts that night, but my eyes once closed, stayed closed.

Being as exhausted as I was, I drifted into a deep dreamless sleep. It had been a while since I have had such a sound sleep. My body desperately needed it, so once I was out, I was out cold.

xxxx

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty! We've got work to do." I felt someone's hands on my shoulders, shaking me lightly. I opened one sleepy eye only to find myself hidden under a vast sea of tan blankets. I clumsily emerged from my cocoon of sheets and poked my head out cautiously.

I was greeted by a pair of beady blue eyes, "Ah, she lives." Tualga said as she backed away from my bedside. At first I didn't exactly know where I was until I saw Rheena pulling the sheets up on her bed in a nightdress.

It hadn't clicked until then though, most likely because I wasn't expecting to see someone eyes inches away from my face first thing in the morning.

"Well I would hope she's alive. But by knowing you and your dragon breath in the morning, Tualga you probably just killed her." Rheena then turned to face me and upon seeing that I was indeed alive, smiled. "Hey there Lynn, you should be getting up now. I bet the Stewardess will be here soon to check up on you."

"Aye," Tualga exclaimed as she pulled an apron off of what I thought was a coat rack. "She'll be wanting us to show you the ropes today miss Lynn, best get moving your Imperial hide." she gave me a wink and cocked her head to the side, beckoning me to come over to her.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed I heard a gasp from the other side of the room. Me and Tualga both looked over to Rheena who had a hand over her mouth. "Lynn did the Count _bite_ you?!" she asked slowly coming towards me.

"W-what, why?" I quickly grasped my neck, shakily trying to feel for bite marks, but none could be found. "Your whiter than a ghost girl!" Rheena said pointing to my legs. I looked down, my skirts had been hiked up a bit once I was asleep so my sickly white legs were shone in all of there porcelain glory.

"She 'aint been bit by the Count you dolt!" Tualga said throwing a cream colored apron over the Redguard's head. "She's an Imperial, their all whiter than sheets!" Rheena shot Tualga a death glare. I ignored the two and stood from the bed and began to set my hair back in its ponytail. Only slightly annoyed with them for almost giving me a heart attack.

"Well, _excuse_ me! I'm so used to seeing you damn pink Nord's that I forgot the Imperial's complexion." Rheena turned on her heel and stomped over to her dresser and began to rummage through her clothes for something to wear.

I was in the process of slipping on my gross shoes when Tualga walked back over to me and placed an apron in my lap. "There you are miss Lynn, say hello to your newest friend; the apron. Soon it will be like your second skin." I looked down at it and picked it up. Carefully examining it, this thing which was my to be my new form of shackles.

It was your basic white apron. Throw it over your shoulders and tie it around your waist. But to me it was much deeper than that. Perhaps I was just being overly dramatic as I put it on, but I could feel the tears form in my eyes. This stupid cotton apron saved my hide and bound me to a dish rack,

I'm grateful but at the same time I feel pathetic.

Hastily I rubbed my eyes, I didn't want anyone to see me all weepy. Especially not on my first day of servitude, I don't think the rest of the staff would be very understanding. "Something wrong miss Lynn?" I heard Tualga ask from behind me.

Shaking my head I tied the apron tightly around my narrow waist. "No." I said quietly and set out to make my bed, an excuse to not face her. "You don't have to be shy girl, no ones cross with you. Well, cept for the Stewardess but that's just because you stole from her." I could hear the smile in Tualga's voice as she spoke.

I wanted to say something, anything, show my appreciation for their warm welcome. I slowly turned to face her while wringing my hands, opening my mouth to say; thank you, but no words would come out. Several times my mouth would quickly open and shut, I must have looked like a Slaughter fish out of water.

Rheena giggled, "You're a bit shy huh Lynn?" I nodded hurriedly, it was my best way of communication, nodding. I know I spoke a bit last night but that was just because I felt obligated to do so. I needed to stop being so shy, but it is just hard to do.

"I-" I began, and grinned broadly, it was a start. "Thank you for, for…" Suddenly I was stumped. What was I thanking them for again? In the midst of willing myself to speak and my triumph for doing so I had forgotten what I was going to say.

"For what, not judging you Lynn? We have no right to. Everyone makes mistakes." Rheena said as she tied her apron on. I don't think that was what I was going to say, but it had to be close enough so I nodded. But when I went to open my mouth to speak to her once more there was a slight rapping coming from the door.

No one had to answer it though as the Stewardess walked in on her own. She strode in with a rather smug look on her face. "Good your all awake, I shall make this quick then." She turned, her blue skirts ruffling slightly as she did so, and pointed to me "Lynn, you are to follow Tualga and Rheena around today. The Count has yet to decide where your permanent work place will be." she paused and crossed her arms.

"He has taken the liberty to pick your work station for you and simply wants you to aid your superiors in any way you can. I suspect that this is his way of getting to trust you better, allowing you to wander his halls." I didn't like the way she was looking at me. It wasn't a cruel stare but it was a skeptical one.

I suppose she has every right to be cautious about me, I did rob her blind. I felt the need to reassure her though, I didn't want her to always look down on me the way she did. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't like to be looked at, I could always tell what people thought of me when they looked at me. Thus far, the Count has been the only exception. I think it's because of his eyes though, I'm not used to seeing humans with a scarlet gaze. "His," I began straining to get my words out fluently.

"His trust is well placed ma'am. I shall be the Count's most loyal…servant." I was unsure if I truly meant those words or not, but upon saying them I felt as if I had just sworn by something, almost like taking an oath. Loyal, I always try to stand by what I say, perhaps I can be as blindly loyal as I know she wants me to be. I think I at least owe him my loyalty.

She nodded. "I do hope so, and he seems to think that you will do just fine." sighing, Hal-Liurz turned to leave. "You will have the same schedule as Rheena for now, it wont change unless the Count wishes to place you elsewhere. Good day girls" and with that, she left the three of us standing in the room and I couldn't help but to notice how everyone had loosed up once she had gone.

"The Count plans the maids schedules?" I asked quietly. I highly doubted that he was the one who constantly plotted out our routines. Not surprisingly Tualga shook her head. "No miss Lynn it's not like him to do such a thing. But I believe that the Stewardess is right, he's watching you."

Usually there would have been nothing frightening about that statement. But when it comes to the Count of Skingrad watching you, and he just so happens to be a vampire I think its only natural to suddenly freeze up the way I did. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought it was a little unnerving.

"Spooky." Rheena said as she looked towards me. Tualga laughed as me and Rheena exchanged irked glances. "You bunch of ninnies, I've worked for the Count almost all my life and he's not yet bit a staff member. So quit shaking in your damn slippers, we've got work to do."

xxxx

My mother had always said; maids work is slaves work with coin, and I had always believed her. I've been a bit of a worker ever since I could read, but at the time I was more of a nanny than a maid. I used to cook and clean up after my little brother and all of my nieces and nephews, which all together equals three toddlers and two infants, so I knew how to work.

But there is some type of odd piece in being a maid that you don't get with a load of children running around your feet. You work, and hard at that, but you have a bit more time to appreciate every little thing you do. Once you stack up dishes they'll stay put until someone needs to cook, not until a curious five year old wants to try out a new throwing disk.

So you can take a small step back and know that what you did was appreciated even if no one voices a 'thank you'. I was more than fine with that, sure by tomorrow all my muscles will surely be tender but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that they were aching from doing something useful for others as well as myself.

None of us had stopped working at all throughout the day. We ate a quick breakfast in the morning and took a twenty minute break around noontime, but that was all. Rheena and Tualga would talk a lot while they worked and I even managed to speak on some occasions as well, but I mostly did my work and lapsed into silence.

They did indeed show me the ropes. I knew the basics of cleaning but not the way the Stewardess wanted everything done. Apparently she is the one who makes us all wear this silly aprons and keep everything a certain way. Tualga told me quite simply when I asked her why, "Tradition."

"Hal-Liurz has worked in castle Skingrad ever since she was hatched. Her mother was one of the Countesses favorite servants." Rheena said as she scrubbed the floor with a sudsy brush. "So Hal was even born in this castle, she knows it and the city like the back of her hand."

"Aye," Tualga started, "The Countess was just as dear to Hal as she was her mother. Once the Countess got sick, the Stewardess was heartbroken." Tualga reached up and wiped the beading sweat along her brow off with her forearm, "That's why we're supposed to keep everything a certain way, just how the Countess had liked it."

Rheena snorted, "I guess she was quite fond of this silly aprons to then huh?" Tualga stood and nodded, "You bet. They were made here in Skingrad, _custom_ made for us castle hands." she sighed and looked off to the side, "It's the only reason why I put up with the Stewardess really, out of respect for the Countess."

I had to wonder what happened to the late wife of the Count, if she was a vampire how did she die? Tualga said she was ill, was that even possible for vampires? "You knew her then?" I asked her cautiously, trying my best to mask my curiosity.

"Aye, but not for long though I'm afraid. Possibly for three years before…well, she became ill. But she was a lovely woman, and very chatty to." Tualga laughed while reminiscing, "Sweet thing she was, and rather outgoing. Everyone she met was a friend to her."

I thought about the way the Count looked last night by the fireplace. His elbows resting on his knees and his lips pressed firmly to his knuckles, he did seem so…empty. Almost vacant, as if he has nothing but sorrow.

And on the night when he had met me, nothing but pure anger, and rage. I could now see why.

"She sounds lovely." I said quietly. I always had respect for outgoing people for they had courage to speak when I did not. I began to wonder what she was like, how she looked and talked. I always try to imagine people, even if they're just fictional characters in a book. Now people may not be reliable, but they certainly are interesting.

"She was, and she could make you do the silliest things!" Tualga was beaming, so much so that it made the aging lines in her face almost vanish, "I remember this one night she had the chef singing some odd tune. Now he sounded _awful_ but Countess Rona simply loved it."

"Old chef Relou? He sang?!" Rheena asked while choking on a laugh. "But he's such a grouchy old Dunmer!" Tualga smiled and nodded feverishly, "And danced. I could go on and on about the silly things the Countess could get us all to do. She was just such a nice woman, we couldn't say no."

xxxx

For the rest of the day me and Rheena listened while Tualga had told us about Countess Rona and how the castle was ran years ago. Apparently there had been a lot more changes in the atmosphere of the place rather than the architecture.

She didn't however talk about the Countess's illness at all. She only said that she had gotten sick about forty seven years ago and went to sleep. I assumed that she meant had permanently died, for Tualga did slip and mention her being a vampire on one occasion. She said something like, 'hated herself for being so thirsty' and I had to associate that with vampirism because it would only make sense seeing as the Count is one to.

She sounded like a nice woman, the good hearted kind that always seem to go tragically.

xxxx

Sure enough by the end of the day my every muscle hurt. It was around eight in the evening when we decided to retire. Once we had entered the maids quarters Tualga led us to our dinning area. To my surprise there were not many maids other than her, myself, and Rheena.

"Where is everybody?" I asked quietly, not really expecting an answer. "This is everybody Lynn." Rheena said as we sat at a small table. Tualga brought us over some food and in the meantime, I couldn't help but to notice the way all the other maids were watching me.

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat, they were glaring at me and I didn't know why. "Ignore them," Tualga muttered as she pushed me over a stone cup. "They're just jealous." I bit my bottom lip and Rheena watched me sympathetically, "They don't know how you came to work here, but they always get suspicious over new hired hands."

"Aye, so don't fret miss Lynn. Soon they'll see how sweet you are." I shrugged, in a way I could understand why the rest of the staff would look down on me even though they didn't know I was a thief. The Count did say that help was hard to come by, and here I am out of the blue working with the higher-ups.

Rheena and Tualga had begun to eat, so I decided to take their advice and ignore the glowering maids. Reaching for the pitcher I poured myself some water and loaded my plate with some food. I had just started to eat when I heard Tualga scoff, "Rheena that's revolting! Have you no manners girl?"

Swallowing, I looked up and immediately regretted doing so. Rheena was shoveling food down so fast that I was surprised she didn't choke. "I cant help it, I'm _starving_!" I winced and watched he continue to shovel down everything on her plate.

"She's been like this for two weeks now, little piglet she is." I looked down at my plate to keep them from seeing me smiling. It was rather funny the way these two acted, they reminded me so much of me and my sister long ago. Sighing I pushed away the old memories and continued to eat.

xxxx

"We'll be needing to get you some pajamas miss Lynn, but these will do fine for now." Tualga said as she handed me one of Rheena's old nightgowns. Apparently Rheena has gotten to big to wear it, and decided to give it to me so I wouldn't have to wear my work clothes to bed again.

"That used to be one of my favorite nightdresses. It's so comfortable, you should fall asleep instantly." Rheena said as she continued to go through her drawers. "I've outgrown a lot of my old clothes, and until we can persuade the Stewardess to get you some there all you've got to wear."

I nodded and turned my back on the two of them to change. At an almost lightning pace, I through off my old clothes and slipped into my new nightdress. "You know Rheena, if you didn't eat like a pig you wouldn't have _outgrown_ all of your clothes." Tualga said crossing her arms.

"Well, it's a good thing I did though huh? Poor Lynn would have to parade around the castle naked if it wasn't for my hammy downs." I snickered as Rheena then walked over to me with an arm full of clothes, "Here, I don't fit them anymore, there all in good condition and clean, but it's all I got for you. I'll talk to Hal tomorrow."

I looked at the large bundle she handed me and muttered, "Thank you." Picking through the linens I sorted out which ones I would be more inclined to wear. I was not picky when it came to clothes, but things like sleeveless doublets…they don't entirely suit my tastes.

I placed all the clothes in the chest at the foot of my bed and climbed in, I couldn't wait to sleep tonight. "We best get to bed girls. Lot more work to do tomorrow and it's Fredas, so you know what that means." Rheena sighed and flopped onto her bed, "Yeah, yeah. Nonstop scrubbing."

"Does…I mean what happens on Fredas?" I asked looking over to Tualga who was just snuffing out the last candle on her nightstand. "It means we will be working in the Counts manor all day long. He only allows us in there once a week, and I swear he makes it filthy just to be bast-" I heard Rheena clear her throat to keep Tualga from insulting the Count.

"Erm," Tualga stammered, "I meant; to be a pain…goodnight." me and Rheena giggled and she called out in the darkness, "The walls have ears Tualga, best watch your mouth unless you want to wake with fangs."

Our laughter soon died down. I was tired and definitely ready to sleep. I laid on my side and stared at the stone wall next to my bed as I thought. Tomorrow we were to clean the Counts manner, I wasn't looking forward to going in there again. I honestly had hoped I seen the last of it once I met with the Count the other evening.

It has nothing to do with him being a vampire anymore really. I mean of course that fact makes me a bit nervous but if he intended to bite me I think he would have done so by now. Perhaps there are such things as tame vampires. I suppose he can control his instincts if he has kept from drooling over his staff's necks. I guess I have nothing to really fear.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I was going to continue to work hard though and be on my best behavior, not that I minded this type of work. Sure it was tiresome, and I wanted to take a hot bath, but all-in-all it was welcomed. It was a nice change to wake up in a bed and dress for work than be awoken by some drunken guard and have to flee.

How could one possibly miss my last life? Life on the streets, constantly fighting to hold onto my possessions and pride. I guess in a way I am a bit fortunate, I was forced into such circumstances on a daily bases when living in alleys, but at least every fight I won or could escape before I got hurt.

Now look at me, no more fighting. Am I really one of the lucky ones? Sure I got out alive and was immediately thrust into servitude but isn't that so much better than dealing with the dangers of the Cities?

After all, what type of danger could possibly lurk in here in castle Skingrad?

xxxx

Authors Notes: I know I'm boring you by now but I really wanted to respond to one reviewer in particular. 'He Who is to lazy to log in' (lol loved the name) pointed out that it would be a good idea to put in the third person point of view in later chapters. I was thinking about it the other day, since this is about the Count and Abigale, I think it's only fair to get a glimpse into the Counts mind every now and then. (because I don't want you to get the wrong idea of himD) So thank you very much for that review! You made up my mind with that XD


	7. Ponder

Authors Notes: Thank you all once again for the reviews, they are the highlights of my fan crazed side! Hehe, well, this chapter takes on a more depressing tone towards the end. And yes, everything I write is essential in this chapter. It may not seem so at first but if you're an Envy fan, there's stuff in here that you might want to know in the future XD, it's important in this story too of course. R+R is appreciated, loved and honored, (bows to reviewers in brain washed manner).

Lover or Blood

Chapter five: Ponder

I awoke the next morning to the sounds of Rheena and Tualga getting dressed and ready for the day. I peered over my shoulder expecting to look out a window, but soon remembered that there were none here in the castle. Sighing I stood up and went for my chest of clothes.

"Good morning miss Lynn. Sleep well? I was just about to wake you." Tualga said as I pulled out a dark brown button up shirt. "Yes I slept fine, thank you." I murmured quietly. Speaking and I never seem to mix well together, especially in the morning. My voice is always hoarse when I first wake up, I think it's from lack of usage though.

One day I may just wake up a mute. But that's not that bad, it would give me a reason to stay forever quiet.

"Well that's good to know, but you had better get ready now. We need to be off soon." I nodded and once again, quickly changed letting out several loud yawns as I tied my hair back into a ponytail. But to my surprise I was the first one dressed. I sat there quietly on my bed, my hands in my lap, and allowed myself to gradually wake up.

It's rather hard to do though with the castle being so dark. I don't know how Rheena and Tualga stand it.

xxxx

"What time is it?" I whispered to Rheena as we made our way down the corridor. The entire castle was quiet, and when we passed some bedrooms I could have sworn I heard snoring. "About seven." she replied while adjusting the strap of her cleaning satchel.

"Why is everyone still asleep then?" I asked this time turning toward Tualga. "Because their tired Lynn, they've been working hard all day." furrowing my brow I looked up at her in disbelieve, "It's seven in the _evening_ miss Lynn. We've been working the nightshift. I could have sworn I told you that."

That had explained why I had been so tired yesterday and today. Even though I could not see the sun my body knew it was late and that I should have been asleep. "Why-?" I began but quickly stopped. I guess that the Count likes to monitor us while we work, and instead of him staying awake he has us work at night.

I wish I had that kind of power. Then again…no I don't, I'm not sure I could handle all that responsibility.

xxxx

When we entered the Counts manner, I was holding my bag of cleaning supplies for dear life. I think I will forever dread coming into his manor whether I fear him or not. It was the first place I ever met an angry vampire or thought I was going to have my head removed.

That's not something you can easily forget.

I was biting my lip nervously as I looked toward Rheena. She seemed calm, but looked a bit more professional, her usual wide smile was nowhere to be seen, and both her and Tualga were as silent as the grave. "Just try not to be noisy, he doesn't like to be disturbed."

Tualga gave me a reassuring pat on the back and we set out to work. She was quiet, but not as stony faced as me and Rheena. It must have been because she worked here longer and knew the place better.

I swallowed hard and kept as close to Tualga as possible, she was the calmest of the two and I think its safe to say that even Rheena is more than just a bit nervous.

xxxx

The three of us quickly set off to the first spare room and quietly began to work. The silence though soon became comfortable for me. I just focused on stripping the beds and changing the sheets as if it was my only purpose in life. I found myself thinking a lot to as I worked, constantly thinking and reminiscing.

"Wow, great job Lynn." Tualga said as she walked over to me. At first I didn't know what she had been talking about. She barley spoke above a whisper anyway so I quirked my brow and looked to what she was pointing at.

It was the corner of the room that I was to clean. I had been so lost in thought and working almost numbly that I did not realize the good job I was doing. Looking up to meet her smile I gave a shrug "It comes naturally I suppose."

"Well that's good then. Hey, why don't you go into the next room over and clean that one up to?" she asked as she gestured to the door, "Rheena can finish this one and I'll do the library. Your more than capable to clean a room on your lonesome and it will kill time. We'll be done in a jiffy." she gave me her familiar reassuring smile and sent me off.

I walked the corridor to the other spare bedroom right by the one Rheena was working in. I pushed open the door and peeked into the blackness. I quickly repeated the same process that Tualga had done in the previous accommodations.

At a rather quick speed I went into my satchel and pulled out a small flint box and lit the several candles that lined the tables and dressers. But even with every wick aflame, the room was still considerably dark. Once that was done I reached into my bag and grouped inside until I found a rag and began to work.

Besides biting my lip I have another bad habit, and it's humming. On several occasions I caught myself just before I began to do it. Back in Anvil my family used to call me humming bird. I was always so quiet and never really spoke to them, the only time they would hear me make a peep was when I was working.

So it was hard to keep from doing it as it came to me as natural as breathing. But the silence was nice and I would rather not have it disturbed. Moreover I wouldn't dare to, the Count is the one in charge and if he says be quiet than I wont make a sound.

I am quite found of my head.

xxxx

Weeks passed as days seemed to fly by within castle Skingrad, though I was never sure of the precise time. The castle had clocks but they only gave the hour and did not read whether it was day or night. I spent all of my time with Rheena and Tualga, and though I could not _fully_ speak to them freely I had never been so close to anyone as I had become with them.

Is 'friend' the proper vernacular or is that to strong a word?

The three of us got along well enough, you would think that three different generations of woman would have some problems. Tualga and Rheena would still bicker every now and then but it was more like sisterly squabbles than actual controversy, and to be honest whatever they fought about was amusing.

Being a willing slave wasn't so bad when you got used to it. Sure I could never set foot outside again and see the sun but at least I had a bed, bathed regularly, and ate. And Gods blood, I don't look like a skeleton anymore!

I was overjoyed when looking in a mirror and saw a healthy girl staring back at me. No longer did my every rib show or did it fatigue me to simply stand. My face wasn't as sunken in any longer and the large bags under my eyes had begun to vanish.

My features had certainly filled out more and I am ever so grateful. You could also tell now that I am indeed a female now because though I had gained back weight some of it resided mainly in the chest area.

Sadly being lean and busty runs in the family, I blame my mother.

Now I am not entirely sure how long I have been in the castle, I wouldn't say anymore than two to three months though, I have yet to be excepted by the stewardess. She still looks down on me and lectures me constantly. But I would never say a word against her, I believe she has every right to judge me.

Her loyalty to the castle and it's occupants is astounding. It's quite understandable, for she assesses me but only out of a motherly like instinct to protect the staff.

Honestly she reminds me of a mother hen.

The schedule that I am to follow still has yet to change. I am to go along route with Rheena and Tualga. Every week it's the same routine; clean the castle, clean the castle, _and_ clean the castle. Only on Fredas does it alter slightly. That is when we tackle the Counts manor.

I believe Tualga was right when she said that he gets it nice and filthy just for us to work our fingers off. Each time the filth seems worse, can mages conjure dust?

xxxx

The castle had gotten much colder since I have arrived, I believe Heartfire is approaching. I love Autumn, Its so sad that I cant watch the leaves change or breath in the crisp fall air. _"At least I can breath though."_ I mentally reminded myself that every time I started to feel self pity. I'm still breathing so I shouldn't complain.

Tualga and I were heading off to the Counts quarters, seeing as it was our weekly ritual, but this time we weren't accompanied by Rheena. She has been getting sick a lot lately, Tualga think she's eating to much, I have almost all her clothes now because she cant fit them.

I'm not foolish though, it's far too obvious she's with child. I have been around to many pregnant woman in my lifetime to think otherwise. She knows it too, but for some reason she wont tell Tualga, maybe she wants to surprise her.

Anyway, whatever the case may be, Tualga and I were entering the Counts manor and went straight to work. I mainly kept to myself, Its not as scary as it used to be when wandering the Counts halls alone. I have even seen him on several occasions but he never acknowledges me, nor I him. He keeps mainly to himself as well.

It's how he is supposed to treat his maids I suppose, like we're invisible.

We spent hours cleaning the large accommodations, each of us working our own separate area's. Whatever I was sent to do though I seemed to finish first. Cleaning came naturally for me and was by nature a way for me to relax besides humming or reading.

Each time I finished a room I would search for Tualga and she would send me to another one. I didn't complain as she usually gave Rheena the same treatment. Around what I would guess was three in the morning I had finished the last spare room and set of once more to see Tualga.

I wiped my brow off with back of my hand and pushed the door open but before I even stepped foot in the hall I froze. I could hear talking, small snippets of conversation. Wringing my hands I further backed into the room and made myself look busy, it's not polite to eavesdrop and standing still makes it more tempting.

Though I could not hear what they were saying I knew that it was Tualga and Hassildor. Another reason for me to hideaway.

I know I said he isn't as scary before, but if I can avoid seeing him I will.

But soon I could heard footfalls fading away as someone left the manor. I guessed it would have been the Count so I cautiously went over to the door and peeked around it to check if all was 'clear'. No sooner had I craned my neck to look down the hall did I quirk my brow. It certainly was clear, surprisingly so. Not Tualga nor the Count was in sight, but I thought I had only heard one person leave.

I'm not usually one to give into temptation or curiosity of any kind, but this time I couldn't help myself, I needed to find Tualga anyway. I think I could be nosy this once and get away with it.

I have always had a rather quiet step, but this time I made it more so. It wasn't like I was doing anything bad, but I didn't want anyone to see me creeping about.

Not that I was really _creeping_, just walking around almost silently.

Tualga had been in the Counts study so that's where I was heading. I pushed open the door and peeked inside. It was to dark to tell if she was actually in there but Tualga is not the quietest of people so I only needed to take a small step in the room to quickly dismiss it empty.

I shrugged and turned to leave when I saw the tall dark figure standing by the doorway. I let out a small gasp and could have sworn I jumped three feet into the air.

"What are you doing?" Hassildor asked as he quirked his brow. I placed a hand on my chest in attempt to calm my thumping heart.

He stared down at me expectantly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he almost made me keel over from a heart attack. "D-doing, sir?" I had the hem of my shirt once again and was wringing it nervously. I don't have a stuttering problem, but I do tend to stammer a lot when in conversation.

But then again it could always be the fact that I still had not caught me breath. "Sneaking about my hallways." he stated, brows raising further. "Don't you have things to do girl?" his voice wasn't harsh, but it still made me recoil slightly. "I finished sir, a minute ago. I-I was just looking for Tualga-"

"I sent her to fetch something for me. She wont be back for sometime." The Count said, abruptly cutting me off. I nodded while gnawing on my lip, waiting for him to continue or at least dismiss me. But instead he did neither and posed a question.

"Did you say you were finished?" he asked, somewhat out of the blue. I blinked, "Yes sir." he rubbed his throat and looked at me thoughtfully. "It's not even four yet. How could you be done?"

He wasn't necessarily calling me a liar but all the same the question struck me as odd. I shrugged not really knowing how to properly answer the random inquiry. "I just am sir. We do usually finish up around this time."

"There was only two of you here tonight," he crossed his arms behind his back. "and you still finished on time?" he sounded almost disbelieving, as if me and Tualga had done something unheard of. "Yes sir." It was getting harder to keep from going mute, I felt like I was back in interrogation with him.

"Well then, it seems as though you can handle yourself." he mused aloud. Then he waved his hand and turned to leave. "Your dismissed girl." I quickly left, not out of fear but obedience.

He wanted me gone and I see no reason for me to linger if I am unwanted.

xxxx

I passed Tualga in the hallway, she and Shum the butler were carrying two small crates. We exchanged glances as we passed but none of us spoke. But if I know Tualga as well as I think I do then surely I will find out what was in those crates later on this evening.

I wont pry or even pose the question of course, but she has the habit of gossiping.

xxxx

By the time I had reached the maids quarters I was greeted by the now well Rheena. "Hey Lynn." she said slowly getting to her feet, "Where's Tualga?"

"Getting something for the Count." I said walking over to her. Even though she was older than me I still felt the odd motherly instinct take over. Baby in her belly or not she didn't feel well when she had to wake up and I have helped many sick adults, children, and pregnant woman.

"How have you been feeling?" She pursed her lips and shrugged. "I've just been a bit sick, probably caught some flu, nothing to worry about really it'll pass in a day or two." I tried my best to keep from correcting her.

"_More like in a week or two, Rheena." _

"Well you should drink lots of water first thing in the morning. Trust me it helps and makes it a lot easier." That was certainly true. My sister, when she was sick in the mornings from the baby's, learned to drink water. It kept her from being ill for long.

She nodded slowly but then began to wring her hands, I had to wonder for a moment if we had temporarily switched roles. "Lynn, could I tell you something, a secret?"

For some reason people have had a tendency to lean on me. They confide in me and tell their deepest secrets. I think it's because I'm so quite, it makes them think I'm easy to talk to and will keep my mouth shut. Their right though, if I hear the words: secret or don't tell a soul, rest assured my lips will be sealed.

Still, it's a bit of a burden to bare. I love to hear what goes on inside peoples heads but at the same time hate it. Sometimes it even gets annoying but I would never say so, and other times I wish that maybe I could talk and have my chance to confide to others.

However this was not the case. I knew exactly what Rheena was about to tell me and felt humbled that she choose to trust me with such sensitive matters. "Of course Rheena." Never do I pry, I wont tell them to; go on or ask what is it, that seems more like forcing them to speak then having them willingly do so.

"I," she began slowly, "you must swear to not speak a word of this to anyone. Not even Tualga." I nodded and spoke slowly, meaningfully.

"I promise."

xxxx

I was right, she was pregnant. Luckily she was _okay_ with it. I tried my best to convince her that having a baby was a wonderful thing but after all that she had just told me…I can see why she may think otherwise.

She's engaged to the stable hand, a young Redguard named Verick. She didn't get into detail but from what I have gathered he is 'friends' with a rather dangerous and secretive group of people. They both fear for the baby's and their future.

I wish I had some advice to give.

Though she was still a bit worried I could tell that getting some of that information off of her chest had helped brighten her mood. She said that so far Verick's business was good and all was well but that he and some of his fellows think some type of conspiracy may be forming.

Since I had no real advice for her I simply told Rheena to keep her mind on the baby and changed the more dangerous topic to a much lighter one, 'have you thought of any names?'.

Young mothers and baby names, a natural distraction and sedative.

xxxx

That night I had lied awake for hours tossing and turning. All this talk of babies brought up memories I wish not to discuss, that I probably would never discuss. But think about? Of course I would, I have a tendency to become lost in thought.

I kept dreaming of my nieces, my nephews, and my little brother. I missed them all so much and they are the only reason why I would ever look toward the west. I had raised them since they were born, my mother and sister leaving me for weeks at a time to do so.

But I was so young, only fifteen. I had to escape it all, to leave them under the care of their birth mothers. I know their all fine, and being taken care of. But five years is a very long time, I have to wonder what they all look like now, how tall they've become, is their hair still curly, eyes still blue?

Do they even remember their other mommy Abigale?

I could feel hot prickling tears form in my eyes. I rolled over and hugged myself, letting tears seep through my closed eyelids and tried to sleep.

Authors Notes: Why do I keep writing segments at the bottom of the PAGE?! No idea. The title seemed pretty pointless huh? No one was really 'pondering' anything, right? WRONG. (caps lock curse, Blame red marionette) hehe. The next chapter will be the first time we enter third person for a brief moment and get to see what Mr. Hassy is thinking! XD I'll explain more though in the next chapter. I have some weird way to break the page and enter into Hassildor's thoughts so you wont get confused with Abigale's. I think waay to much into this…I love it! XD


	8. Advancement

Authors Notes: I finally got in some writing time, so here is chapter six! When you see the capital X's, that means your entering third person, lower case X's means your back in Abigale's head. XD. Here goes my first time writing in third person. Fingers crossed! Hope you like it.

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter six: Advancement

XXXX

The Count of Skingrad paced back and forth within his room, the carpets beneath his feet beginning to wear as he did so. Pacing had become much more than just a nervous habit for him once he was awaiting a shipment; it became an adrenaline-filled sport to which there was no referee.

Usually he would not allow himself to sink into such a state of desperation, but it had been three days since he last had something to sustain him. Moreover, for a vampire, no matter how well they treated their condition, three days was a very long time.

So back and forth, he went almost relentlessly, thinking about nothing and everything all at the same time. His thoughts often raced during times like this as he tried to refrain himself from having an emotional breakdown. Fighting the desire to actually _feed_ and keeping from referring to himself as, monster.

Had he been in a more logical state of mind, he would have dismissed both notions as side effects of his disease: hunger and self-loathing.

But after what seemed like an eternity of mental strain, there came a small rapping on the door. He looked up, his head jerking quickly towards the sound. As suspected, there were two people just outside of his door. Had he not been pacing so feverishly he would have noticed them sooner.

He could feel their pulses after all. The steady thrum and rush of the blood flow.

Swallowing hard he went to the door, trying his best to compose himself. _"I should have known better." _Janus thought as he gripped the brass knocker, inwardly scolding himself. He had gone without blood before; he knew the effects that his mind and body went through without it.

Still he would find any excuse on Nirn to _forget_ the drink. Now he was suffering the consequences. The aftermath from lack of nutrition and the mental abuse he was about to yet again put himself through, as he always did when forced to drink.

Quickly he opened the door and in walked two of his oldest servants, both loyal and silent. His eyes locked onto the two boxes they were carrying. Both employees dropped the crates carefully by his feet, not wanting to disturb the fragile contents inside.

Without a word, the company left, knowing simply by the look on his face that he wanted to be alone. He always wished to be alone, or so they all thought.

Not wanting to prolong his stricken torment, he placed a hand on the crate and began to mutter a complex charm to unlock it. The spell seemed to drag on as it always did in his time of need. Soon though he heard that all too familiar, click of the lock and pulled the lid wide open.

He quickly reached inside and pulled out one of the large glass bottles. The crimson liquid swirled eloquently around inside its container and cast red shadows from the candle light. His first thought was to simply open the bottle and drain its contents where he stood. However, the Count of Skingrad would never sink so low and demean himself in such a way.

Walking across the room to his wine cabinet, he set the bottle down and reached for a bottle opener and silver goblet. In a trance like state, he watched the liquid flow into his cup, absentmindedly reading a minor heating spell. Finally, with the blood warm and as fresh as he would allow, he drank.

Cringing with disgust, he fought back the urge to dump the fowl substance. The taste was bitter and horrid when warm. _"Argonian."_ he mentally groaned. Over forty years he learned to place the 'donated' blood to whatever race owned it simply by taste. It was not a skill he would gloat upon but it was certainly a way to amuse himself; idly thinking of the many Tamriel races and not the obvious matter at hand.

Finishing his first glass he quickly poured another. The taste may have been wretched and closely resembled drinking the water from the Anvil docks, it was oddly satisfying. His muscles felt more at ease and for a moment he contemplated having a third glass simply to retain the euphoric like state.

His thoughts of comfort quickly vanished though as there came another set of knocks on the door. Quirking his brow he glanced in its direction, he knew who it was but had not expected her to come so early. Without waiting for a reply, the Stewardess pushed open the doors and walked in.

"Good morning sir Hassildor. You sent for me?" The Argonian asked in a raspy voice. Janus blinked, unsure of why he had even called his Stewardess down in the first place. "Yes, I did." He began, looking off to the side with his brows furrowing.

"I believe it had something to do with your newest servant." Hal started while crossing her arms somewhat impatiently. It then took him only a moment to remember why he had called her in. "Right. The mute one." he recalled, placing his goblet down on a small table.

Hal gave a small sigh. She sometimes felt like a mother to the Count. No matter how many years he surpassed her in age the Argonian would always look down on him as if he was an incompetent child. Granted she was not alive when he was a boy, she knew him for her entire life and could easily tell what he was thinking.

"She's no mute, just on the quiet side." The Stewardess answered, her scaly brows quirking slightly.

If the Count was not so dignified, he may have rolled his eyes. "I know. I've _spoken_ to her." he shortly replied. "Being quiet will do her good as I won't know when she's about. I have decided to place her here."

Hal-Liurz's brows rose even further as she eyed the Count skeptically, waiting for him to continue. "She's quick, silent and to be blunt, I'm tired of my home having to sit and fester an entire week before it's seen to. Once a day she can enter my manor; work and leave."

"You think it wise?" The stewardess quickly interjected, "She was thief only months ago. Do you really trust her amongst your things? She is a good girl I know, but old habits; such as stealing, are hard ones to break." For a moment he just watched his cantankerous companion, wondering briefly why she was always so difficult to reassure.

"All the more reason to have her close. I may not have as many people around to keep an eye on her but we all know that I am quiet capable, perhaps more so, to watch her." Hal-Liurz gave a defeated sigh and nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish sir then I will inform her of her new post once she awakes. But, are you really sure?"

"Very." Janus answered while turning away from the Stewardess. "Besides, I don't think I will have any trouble with keeping her in line," he walked back over to his empty goblet with every intention to fill it once again. "I'm afraid I put the fear of the Gods into her." He gave a dry laugh as he watched the red liquid pour from its bottle.

Shaking her head Hal bowed, dismissing herself. She always had good instincts, but what worried her the most now was the idea of her newest underling roaming the Counts hall's freely. She trusted the girl to an extent but still could not shake the feeling of this situation being a bad idea.

xxxx

I don't know how long I had been awake for but my best guess would be hours. Sleeping in the day and waking up at nightfall is not so bad once you get used to it. Not being able to sleep though because of memories is a slight problem.

I had been restless and could not sleep for more than ten-minute intervals. Around what I would say was three in the afternoon, I gave up. Rheena and Tualga were both sleeping soundly as I dressed. Once I had slipped on my shoes I quietly left the room; not wanting to disturb them.

Even though I had been living here in the castle for several months now I was not going to poke about aimlessly. Never would I leave the servant's quarters without someone to accompany me, and when I say someone, I mean Tualga or Rheena. The other maids still don't seem to like me very much.

When I entered our little common room, I looked around and was not surprised to see it mostly empty. I needed something, anything to get my mind off my old family. Twiddling my thumbs as I entered the room further, I let my eyes do a quick sweep of the area.

What they fell upon was heaven sent, for cast aside on a makeshift table was a little auburn book. I made my way over to it and sat in a rickety old chair. Carefully I picked up the old tome, handling it as if it was a holy relic. It had been a long time since I could read. Most of my books and possessions were probably still hidden behind the chapel.

Turning it over to read the cover, running my fingers over the golden lettering. "The Book of Daedra." I whispered solemnly. I must have come across a dozen copies of this book and new most of it by heart now. Still it was a book so with a simple shrug I opened the cover and brought it to my face, holding it only inches away from my nose as I always did, as if I was trying to hide from the world.

Maybe I was.

xxxx

Minutes ticked by but time meant nothing when I read. I had just finished reading about the Mad God; Sheogorath, and no sooner had I turned the page to Vaernima's section did the book get snatched up from my hands.

Looking up confused to see Hal-Luirz staring down at me with a look that vaguely resembled contempt. "What are you doing up girl?" she asked tapping her foot.

I quirked my brow and looked from the book that she now held, to her face. I thought it was a little obvious what I was doing honestly. "Reading miss." I said quietly.

"I'm aware of that, but why aren't you asleep? You'll be needing to get up again in a few hours." I nodded sheepishly and replied in an even softer voice, "I couldn't sleep Stewardess. I just…nightmare." My voice was quickly failing me as it usually did when I was nervous.

I bowed my head and cast my gaze to the floor. "Forgive me."

Hal sighed and set the book aside. "You're not in trouble," she stated flatly. "Although I think you should be in bed, you now have the freedom to roam as you please." I looked up at her curiously, _"Roam as I please?" _

"The Count has decided to post you in his manner; you will work there from now on. I think your superiors will be pleased, as thanks to you they will now have Fredas off." I swallowed, "But, Tualga said that he doesn't want anyone in there, more than once a week."

"Apparently he's tired of wallowing in his own filth and has come to his senses. Why he chose you of all people is relatively obvious; you keep to yourself and can work." I bit my lip and slouched slightly in my chair.

Even though I barley spoke to Rheena and Tualga as we worked I would miss there company. Not to mention I wasn't exactly enthusiastic to have the honor to wander about alone. Every time I simply stray from the others I get caught. Granted I'm not doing anything bad but nevertheless it is tiresome.

So naturally, I'm not looking forward to it.

"When do I start this new routine?"

xxxx

Tualga and Rheena were still sleeping when I went back into our room. I went straight to my bed and sat, thinking now about my new position. It would be simple enough and I would mainly have the day to do what I pleased and get a good nights rest, for the most part.

My shift starts at eight in the evening and ends at midnight. Not much to it really but I didn't really want to work alone.

With a sigh, I pulled the knot from my hair, letting it fall loosely to the small of my back. Absently I toyed with the ribbon, my mind set solely on work. In a way I was happy, almost excited. I was being trusted, which is a lot for someone like me. But there was also a fair amount of discomfort; I was to be alone with the vampire who could end my life if he wanted to.

Then again he has given me a responsibility that he has yet to give to anyone else. Not to mention I have been working for him for a good while now and he hasn't once mentioned getting rid of me. _"Maybe I am being to judgmental. After all he could have gotten rid of me when we first met, he showed me mercy…he was the only person to ever show me mercy."_

I blinked, for the first time realizing that the Count was the only person who ever sparred me any type of punishment. He could have been like everyone else; tormented me for no reason. Count or not, vampire or not, he gave me a home and showed me kindness. In a sense, he saved me.

Sighing once more, I crawled back into bed. Was I being ungrateful? I believe so. If it weren't for him I wouldn't even be in this bed now, wouldn't have laughed yesterday or ate something. For all I know I would be dead. I honestly don't think I could have lasted this winter out behind the chapel. I only got by last year thanks to a basement.

I shuddered, remembering the cold of that dark lonely place. I was going to prove my worth to the Count. I don't want him to regret saving me. Such a lowly sad creature I was. To this day I can't understand why he did let me live. What did he see in me other than a desperate pathetic thief, why save little Abigale Lynn when I can barley save myself?

Perhaps the Count saw something he could gain by helping me. On the other hand, maybe it was just a random act of kindness. Either way though I will make sure that he never regrets it.

xxxx

I'm so used to Tualga or Rheena waking me up everyday now that when I woke up this afternoon to find that I was alone I was actually shocked. For a moment I wasn't sure if I had wandered into the right room when I went back to bed earlier today.

I threw the covers quickly off me and scrambled over to my chest. I hastily dressed; not knowing what time it was can drive one mad. But just as I was about to walk over to the bedroom door, it opened for me and in walked the two missing people.

"Get yourself some beauty rest then, eh miss Lynn?" Tualga said as she strode over to me. Immediately I could tell that the two of them were up to something. They were staring at me quizzically, as if I was withholding some sort of information.

Sure enough, Rheena posed the question. "So, you gonna tell us what's going on then?"

I blinked confused, it did not help any either that I had just woken up. "What, did I do something wrong? I was only sleeping."

Tualga crossed her arms, smiling slightly. "The Stewardess told us not to wake you until seven. She said you wont be working with us anymore." she paused and her smile grew. "I hope you've not been getting into any trouble."

"Not to my knowledge. I did get a new shift though; I'm not going to be seeing you both as much."

Rheena pushed by Tualga "What?!" she exclaimed in her usual over dramatic manner. "You can't leave me! Untie your tongue this instant! The Stewardess said you would tell us about your new position when you woke up so spit it out!"

If I had not been used to Rheena's strange ways by now I might have recoiled. But seeing as I am I knew it was best just to, as she said, 'spit it out'.

"It's nothing, really. The Count has just found a place for me to work, on my own." Tualga's pale brows furrowed. "Working on your own…where? There's no empty positions. We've actually have a lot more help than we usually do." she glanced quickly at Rheena, and then turned back to me. "What are you to be doing?"

"I'm working up in the manor now. I have to-" But before I could finish none other than Rheena abruptly cut me off. I should have readied myself for her usual hysterics; it has gotten worse since her pregnancy. "What?! All by yourself?"

She griped Tualga's shoulder, "Why is he having you work up there, shouldn't it be me or Tualga? Has he ever let someone work _by_ him? He's so stingy and uptight. I doubt this is just some sudden change of attitude. He's plotting something…"

"Oh aye!" Tualga exclaimed with a roar of laughter. "Plotting against us all! How dare he? Giving us a day off and finally giving Lynn a workstation. Wicked, wicked man, that Count. Wouldn't trust him with me life!"

Rheena glowered at the still hysterical Nord. "He is a _man_ Tualga." she then turned to me, speaking intently. "They always plot; good or bad. I'm just worried for you Lynn. I like Hassildor, but you can't over look that he's a-"

"Vampire?" Tualga quickly answered.

"Well, yes." Rheena began, "But there's also-" Tualga crossed her arms, "I've been in this Castle for over fifty years. Him being a vampire has got nothing to do with _anything_." She turned back to me, speaking much more gently than she had been to Rheena.

"Don't judge him for…being ill, miss Lynn. He is no different from you or me. Crankier, that's for damn sure, but otherwise," she waved her hand dismissively over her face, "fine. The only thing he'd be plotting is how to make you shut up if you start that humming of yours 'round him."

I smiled sheepishly, I didn't know they heard me humming. Guess I had better learn to control myself. "We're proud of ya miss Lynn. But it's gonna get lonely fast now that you wont be helping us out as much."

Rheena sighed, "Just to be clear, I wasn't necessarily talking about the Counts, err…condition. I was talking of men in general. Whether or not their healthy or charming their all gits. Arguing about money, family, safety, killing…" she cleared her throat, "killing time…together."

"I'm sure the Count won't be talking to me about any of those things. I'm a maid you two, not his confidant." Tualga laughed, then gave me a hard pat on the shoulder. "Shame that. You'd probably get along. Listening to you talk is a nightmare; big words give me a headache."

"That's because you're a Nord." Rheena chimed in, earning a scowl from Tualga.

The two began their usual arguing. I for one had much on my mind, most of which, oddly enough was about Tualga's age. I would have never guessed she was over fifty.

xxxx

I twirled the new silver key in my hands as I walked. Never did I imagine that I would have a copy of the Counts key. Ironically enough the thief gets the key, it's like a bad punch line really. The situation in my opinion was farce, so much so that I couldn't keep a smile off my face as I entered the manor.

Odd as it was, I had unusually high spirits today. Obviously I was still a bit nervous about my awkward predicament but Tualga's words had consoled me. Why should I be frightened? He has not given me reason to be. Nevertheless, I believe that I'm entitled to at least feel intimidated. According to the handful of staff members I spoke to before leaving the lounge, no one has been aloud in Hassildor's presence daily for over a decade.

Honored, excited, intimidated, and afraid. Most would be overwhelmed by such an onslaught of emotions. Luckily, I can bottle myself up quiet nicely, or at least attempt to.

The first thing I had to do was see the Count himself. Apparently the Stewardess composed a list of 'To Do's' for me but left it with him. It worked out well enough though as he whished to speak with me one more time before everything was finalized. I guess he wants terms to be clear and I suppose he will give me the same lecture the Stewardess had just given me moments before.

Don't touch this. Don't do that. Moreover, _this_ is what happens if you do.

I will do as I am told of course. But for once in my life, I'm grateful for my shyness. Hal-Liurz couldn't stress _silent's _enough.

I think it will work out perfectly; I bite my tongue and in turn, spare my neck.

As I approached the Counts bedroom door I slipped my newly acquired key into my apron pocket. It was something I definitely did not want to lose seeing as only me, Tualga, Hal-Liurz, the butler and the Count have a copy.

I pursed my lips while reaching for the brass knocker. Out of pure curiosity I began wondering why the Count; being so rich, had brass knockers on the door. Why not silver, or gold for that matter? Keeping myself mentally entertained with little questions and silly notions made it easier for me to knock. Thinking or rationalizing everything always helped to calm me down when I'm nervous.

My sister had once said that I tried to blind myself with more 'complex' logic, to help dull any pressing _obvious_ matters. I suppose I agree with her. Anything seems less severe when you consistently analyze it.

Because the more attention one gives a problem, the more potential to solve it arises.

"_Think, observe and rationalize."_ I lectured mentally as I let the knocker fall for the third time. _"Satisfaction, or rather complacency, often follows mental strain. The more I think, the simpler everything becomes, the more easy everything becomes." _

* * *

Authors Notes: Well it starts. Not much else to say. Surprisingly I'm proud of this chapter, writing in third person definitely does give more freedom. Sorry if its…of low quality, I tend to go off track when writing, especially in third person. Hehe. Reviews would be great, and thanks to all who have or will! :D


	9. Muddled

Authors Notes: Wow, really long wait for anything. Its like pulling teeth to get on the computer during the holidays XD. Thanks to all those who reviewed! This chapters for you, you are why I fought my way through my siblings to get to the internet XD Hope you enjoy the chapter ^-^. And thanks again for your patients!

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Love or Blood

Chapter seven: Muddled

He called me in. His voice was, not surprisingly, a bit muffled by the large doors but I got the message and entered. The room was how I remembered it. It was in the same dark, depressing state of disarray that it always held. As if a very miserable storm had struck it.

The fireplace was lit, but all that seemed to do was cast flickering shadows across the walls, ceiling and floor. Light just did not want to stay put inside this room; it danced across furniture and made everything look almost as though it was moving. The typical fearful setting that would give a small child nightmares if they had to stay in here alone.

Moreover, here I am in such a fearful setting looking for my vampiric employer.

I took in a deep breath and stepped further into the room. Most would mentally say, 'Think positive'. I say, 'Think about anything in general.' Pick an object and work out its meaning. So I did just that. I glanced to my right and viewed the fireplace mantle: noting its elegant structure and estimating the time it must have took to create such a splendor.

It was hard, however, to stay lost in my musings on the mantle as I watched one of the many cascading shadows draw near. I swallowed hard trying desperately to retain my composure, letting my thoughts drift and capturing the first thing that came to my mind in order to analyze it.

Regrettably, the only thing that at the time was twisting in my head was my own fear. So off I went, barley acknowledging that I was doing so.

"_Fear. How strange it is; to enter a place so calm while knowing what lurks within it to only have the composure you possessed flutter away once you face whatever was doing the said lurking._ _Control seems to shake away from you and your left simply rigid and stupid. Biting back the urge to shriek and cower away from your, physical or imaginary demons-"_

I abruptly halted my train of thought: biting back, shriek, demons. Here I am trying to calm myself down and am only exceeding at worsening my fears…

"You're late. That's not the best way to make a good impression."

I bit into my lip and turned to face the sound of the Counts voice. Mentally, I praised myself. Thus far, I seemed to be in control of my nervous jitters. He stood a few feet away, maintaining his distance, as I was my instincts. The fire light played softly upon his features at this angle; his eyes were bright and features softer. Relaxing slightly, I gave a small bow but kept my hands splayed over my stomach.

One never knows when they might have to push someone away.

When I straightened, my breath immediately hitched. The space between us had closed slightly. If he delighted in frightening me he did a fantastic job of concealing it, as he seemed to have his attention set solely on the piece of parchment in his hand.

Just like me, he was a quiet walker. That in itself is a scary thing as men usually tend to walk nosily on their heels. I gave a small sigh through my nose. I was working myself up; there was no reason to be afraid. Just because he has a light step doesn't mean he's going to try to spring up at me out of nowhere.

His eyes flicked from passage to passage on the paper. He was calm, reading. Going over what it was I had to do. I needed to do that as well; concentrate on something so I can relax-

"The Stewardess has taken the liberty of compiling a list of things for you to do." He said, nodding his head toward the parchment. But as he spoke, he had given me something to think about, though it had nothing to do with his words at all.

Fangs.

"It's fairly simple, I'm sure you'll have no problem following it. Though, she did put down some things that truthfully don't need tending to daily." he continued, his voice trailing off toward the end of the sentence. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and continued to study the list further.

"Carpets? Twice a week should be good enough.," he mumbled, and as he spoke I felt my head inclining towards the side slightly but had almost no control of it. It was fearfully interesting watching him speak. You never really hold a conversation with someone who has fangs. The night of my interrogation I had been too afraid to really notice them.

I can't help but to wonder why he doesn't talk funny with them, or how he can properly eat, _if _he eats for that matter. Moreover, what if he had the bad habit of biting his lip like I do? That would be horrible. I wonder if he can feel his teeth vibrate when he hums.

"There's really no need to beat the tapestries, and…speaking of…its rude to stare." I didn't really _comprehend_ what he said at first. I may have even nodded because I wasn't really listening. By the time I actually got the meaning of what he said however, I turned scarlet.

Blinking I looked up to see him peering at me from over the paper with his brow quirked. I blushed further and averted his gaze. I felt like a silly hypocrite. Silly because not only was I caught almost _observing_ him, but because of how long the pause was before I took into account what he had said.

Hypocrite because I not only hate being stared at but almost fear it as well. I would hate to make anyone else feel uncomfortable like that.

I opened my mouth to apologize but not surprisingly I didn't get very far. "I…," Swallowing hard I willed myself to look up at him. He was still staring at me, eyes going from a simple glare to a piercing one, "sorry." He scoffed and held out the list for me to take. I took it quickly and no sooner had it left his hand did cross his arms, tapping his finger impatiently against his sleeve.

"I Sorry." he repeated casually, "Well its no wonder why you don't talk then. Cant even put a simple sentence together." Biting my lip, I fiddled with the paper in my hands. My embarrassment must have shown plainly on my face but mostly I just felt guilty. It was obvious that I had offended him; he wouldn't be trying to make me feel inferior otherwise.

He sighed and turned walking toward his desk. Or what I thought was a desk rather, it was awful dark. "Well then I see no reason to keep you further. You have your orders; do what needs to be done." With that, I briskly turned and went to leave the room.

"That is," I heard him continue, "if you can _read_, of course."

That was a very low and hurtful blow. I felt myself go rigid at that prejudice. Just because I was a thief doesn't mean I'm stupid, just because I don't talk doesn't mean I can't. Frowning into the darkness I glanced down at the paper and said partially under my breath, "I can sir."

xxxx

Glancing back down at the list in my hand, I shut the Counts door behind me. _"It could have gone a lot worse, I suppose."_ I sighed and walked down the hall. Surprisingly enough, my good mood had not gone from me. Now that I was out of the Counts room, I felt much better. Calmer actually.

My eyes scanned the paper but I took nothing in. Even though he mocked me, I still felt remorseful. I know more than well enough how it feels to be studied by another. Whether they are looking at you with praise or not. It is just so…uncomfortable.

With another sigh, I leaned up against the wall, quickly massaging my forehead before bringing the paper back up to my eyes. This time as I read the list I absorbed it as well. The Count was right, Hal-Liurz did give me many none essential things to do.

"Clean the chandelier?" I read aloud in disbelief, then glanced upward toward the very high ceilings.

It was either I live up to my name, hummingbird, and sprout wings or I am going to need a ladder.

XXXX

The Count listened and waited for the maid to leave the room. She did and quickly but not before muttering something under her breath. "I can sir." He had half expected an insult; thieves were famous for little jabbing comments, especially when they thought that they were out of earshot.

As the door clicked behind her, he sighed heavily and began to massage his temples. _"Sure she's quiet. But she's one of those silent on-watchers." _At the moment, he didn't know which he found more annoying: babblers, or curious mute maids.

Normally, he wouldn't have paid it much mind. The Count was used to being stared at, but if this girl was supposed to be around him while he was up…those big eyes were going to get _very_ annoying. He had no patients for rudeness, there was a difference between simply staring and actually having your concentration fixated on something.

He shook his head lightly, while absently paying close attention to the sounds of the girl in the hallway. The noise was faint but he could still hear her heart beat. Naturally, he was curious as to what she was doing. Her footsteps had abruptly stopped, not faded down the corridor like they were supposed to.

What she said was muffled and soft but he did catch the word, 'chandelier'. He, unlike the maid, found this highly amusing. The Count snorted, thinking of the sudden dismay in the maid's expression as she looked up to _observe _the light she was to do, wondering how she was to climb the ceiling.

"_Probably freighting over how the _evil _vampire will fare if she can't get her work done."_ He mused walking toward his desk. Taking a seat in his overstuffed chair, he began to drum his fingers against the smooth wooden surface. His face crumpled into contemplation as a sudden problem arose, _"How is she going to get up there?,"_

Janus pursed his lips in thought. Brining a ladder into his manor was out of the question. _"Could always just through her." _With another drawn out involuntary sigh, he reached into his desk and pulled out a small bottle of ink, parchment and quill. He had a letter to write. True, his _old _friend would find his now rather uncomfortable predicament amusing, but regardless he needed reassurance.

Sure, this maid was young, but don't the living acquire wisdom thus common courtesy once they age?

His quill feverishly scratched at the parchment as the minutes ticked by. The note explaining in detail of his new found red haired, silent, tormentor. But as the wax of the seal began to dry the Count found himself thinking again. Everything was strangely quiet. If the maid was still working a noise was bound to occur sooner or later.

Picking up the note from the desk and placing it in his coat pocket, he went for the door. He needed to see Shum gro-Yarug anyway, to have him send the letter to Cheydinhal, why not take a quick stroll around his home first?

Janus didn't think of this as nosey, he had every right to walk about his home. He did however, justify his suspicion and rather quiet steps. He _was _supposed to keep an eye on her, if she was even still in his manor.

xxxx

It was all so quiet. Without the usual bustle that Tualga makes, the manor was so still that the only word I could think to describe as was 'dead'. I worked quickly within this silent setting, mentally checking off what I finished that was on the list. It consisted of rather basic things to do which allowed me to finish with time to spare.

For this I was glad, spare time meant that I could take a breather and be away from watching eyes for once. It actually came to a shock to me though; how much I would miss the others company. I try not to rely on people and I barley talk to them when they're around for that matter, but there was no denying the sudden want for company.

It's an unfamiliar feeling really.

Strange. The only people who I usually ever long to see is my family. You never realize how lonely you are until you stand alone in the dark with nothing more to do.

But maybe it's just this dark that is getting to me. After all, I'm not sure anyone can keep themselves from dwelling on depressing subjects in such gloom. The Count must have come accustom to the blackness by now. Porphyric hemophilia aside though, I think he should get mage lights or some torches at the least.

My eyes were now as used to the dim lighting as they could possibly get, so I took advantage of what little time I had left. No, I was not going to think on depressing topics. I would much rather scan the titles of books the Count has in his library.

I have been in there many times but never was I alone, and if I was, my work kept me from so much as glancing at the books. But now as I look up at the shelves, its truly worth the risk of being scolded for. I have never seen such a vast collection in all of my life.

Big and small, leather bound or paperback, he had them all. My eyes must have been as large as Masser once they flicked from cover to cover. Some titles I couldn't even pronounce, others in different languages.

I could vaguely remember the first time I saw his collection. I wanted to take them all and keep them to myself, but my morals on stealing books prevented me from doing so. Now though, I was so much more than tempted to take them.

My hand, as if it had a mind of its own, was slowly reaching towards the spine of a large purple book. Before my fingers could even brush against the spine however, I snatched it away. "No." I scolded myself quietly. _"I'm not a thief anymore."_ Biting my lip, I went for the door. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as it used to do right before I would steal anything.

Knowing that my body's natural instincts for stealing were coming into play made me almost run out of the room. Never before had I wanted to grab something so badly, but I knew better now. I always hated being a thief, hated myself for having to sink to stealing in the first place. I certainly would not take from the only person who trusted me around their things.

Shutting the manor door behind me, I pulled the small silver key from my pocket and began to study it for a moment. _"Although,"_ I glanced around nervously as I locked the door, _"stealing and lending are not the same things…" _

XXXX

The Count smiled triumphantly as he watched the girl sharply withdraw her hand from 2920 Sun's Dawn, a history book he was rather fond of. For a moment he actually thought she was going to take it, she proved him wrong. Which caused him of course to give a small lackadaisical smile in turn.

He had her summed up just about right. His eyes scrutinized her back as he monitored her exit of his library. Only when she was gone did he step from the shadows.

_No, _he most certainly was _not spying_, just keeping a watchful eye on things. In addition, he was certainly glad that he did so. For his little observation proved that even though she was tempted to steal, she did not. The opportunity must have seemed perfect; she did not know that her employer was only several feet behind her.

She could be trusted…to an extent. He gave an approving nod and also left the library. Now he would go locate his butler, rather than ring a bell and summon him.

xxxx

It was far too much broken sleep. That's what must be making me act and feel so strangely. In truth, I feel terrible, lowly, guilty, things of that like, the list goes on. Someone needed to scold me 'Shame, shame Abigale Lynn.' I almost stole again; I almost took something from someone who is kind to me.

My attempt to act natural was a failure. As I entered our room, I yanked out my hair tie and flopped onto my cot, burring my face into the pillow.

I wanted to vanish, better yet, melt into the sweet smelling pillow and never be disturbed again. It may seem as though I am over reacting to some, but truthfully, I am scum of Nirn for even contemplating theft. For those who never stole, you simply don't know what its like. Especially if you usually were stealing for your own survival.

The only real way to describe it as is like a drug. Addicting and sinful. I may not believe in Aedra but I do know what sin is. I lived off of it for sometime and paid for it daily. When you steal when you're living on the streets you can always justify it as a life or death situation, but taking for no other reason other than pure greed and envy, it means you have become addicted.

About five years ago, a priest in Kvatch had once told me that everything in nature steals. I think he told me this so I would feel better about myself. Right now though I can't seem to find those words comforting. Maybe its because of my headache, that I cant find solace. Or maybe its just that I'm not an impressionable fifteen year old anymore...

"Err, miss Lynn?"

Looking up sluggishly I realized that I was not alone in the room. I must be really in a bad state of mind, I usually always know when I'm being watched. "You feeling alright?" Tualga asked as she stepped over toward me.

I quickly nodded. _"In physical aspects, of course, I'm fine."_

It took me a while to respond, tiredness finally taking its toll on me. But at least I managed a sentence, "How long have you been there?" She gave a smile and sat on the edge of my bed. "Since you walked in. Been lying there with your face in that pillow for nearly fifteen minutes now. Thought you might have suffocated."

For a moment, I just sat there, thinking of how my little overdramatic fall into the pillow looked to her. Poor Tualga. Watching me from the corner of the room most likely confused.

I felt a smile slowly take form on my lips before I could hide it.

"Smiles today miss Lynn? Well now," Tualga said with a laugh, "I take it work went well, did you see Hassildor?"

It must have been delirium, for once she mentioned the Count all I could think of was our awkward meeting. He too got to see the slightly sleep deprived Abigale Lynn. I must have looked so silly. Watching him talk as if I was in a trance. I could have been drooling for all I know. My dazed expression must have been so very uncivilized, he had probably not seen such a dumfounded expression in all his years.

Who knows what he thinks of me now.

I burst into laughter before Tualga, as I thought of how dare I say, _stupid_ I must have looked. Its been a long time since I laughed at something so meaningless that it hurt to do so. To be quite honest I have not laughed this much in ages, I had almost forgotten what I sound like.

"I-I saw him." I choked on more giggles, shaking my head at today's utter stupidity.

"You _talk_ to him?" nodding my smile grew, _"Partially." _I began to giggle more at the thought. I had to sound like a deranged hyena, one that desperately needed to go to bed.

"You seem…awful cheery tonight miss Lynn. Anything happen, anything distinct?"

I finally silenced my laughter and thought about it for a moment. The only distinct thing that I could really remember was the way he glared at me with scrutinizing garnet eyes. My sudden silliness soon faded as I abruptly lapsed into thought. I once again felt wrong footed. How would those eyes look if he found out I was taking things from him again?

My face began to burn at that. Being caught by him of all people was not something I wanted to dwell on.

"You've been giggling like a maniac, now your blushing like a fiend." she started with a pale brow slowly rising. "The way I see it, either Sheogorath's been visiting you or the Counts still a charmer."

I blinked, my face crumpling into confusion. "Charmer, the _Count_?" I repeated quietly, for a moment wondering if we were talking about the same person.

She chuckled lightly as I shook my head. I found the idea rather baffling, at the moment this discussion started I was thinking about him being angry with me. Hardly what one would consider charming. Regardless, whether or not I find him or any man for the matter _charming_ nothing would happen. I would not fall into the 'love' and 'marriage' entrapment.

Matrimony is nothing but a stalker with a wring. The wring only there to, in a sense _legalize_ the marriages' consummation.

I would never. I'm simply not interested. Abigale Lynn is celibate and staying that way. So any relationship is out of the question. Not that I could find another even if I wanted to. Hard to find a good man anyway especially if your like me and never allowed to leave a place.

Live pure and die pure I suppose.

"Whatever the case miss Lynn, I think its best that you get some sleep. Dark circles aren't very attractive in my opinion." she stood and went toward the door, blowing out the candles for me as she went.

I meant to ask her what she was doing awake at such an hour. Surely she would be resting up now with her new shift change? But before I could pose a question the bed itself seemed to be beckoning me. I laid down into the mattress, sleep quickly overtaking me.

Luckily my exhaustion kept me from having broken sleep. But all that talk with Tualga gave me rather strange dreams. Nothing that I will elaborate further on though.

* * *

Authors Notes: The wait was so long and I'm sorry (again). Abigale may seem a bit out of character in this chapter but thats only because she was verrry sleepy :) Her odd thoughts though are very importaint as she tries to rationalize _everything_. That is one of her many charicteristics and is a importaint one ;) Feedback is appreciated so R+R if you like, and thanks for reading!


	10. Oils and Acrylics

_Authors Notes: Hello! Good to be writing again. This is my favorite chapter for this story so far. I hope you like it too. The title? Aside the obvious (what you'll read and discover as obvious) I have always thought of Oils and Acrylics as opposites. In this case, for this story chapter, it makes sense. Opposites. Love or Blood, living and dead, etcetera. XD I've spent way too much time around the youngest generation of my family...I feel like I have to explain __EVERYTHING_. XD

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Love or Blood

Chapter eight: Oils and Acrylics

"Aww, whaz a matter?" the Breton slurred, the strong smell of spiced Rum heavy on his breath. "Wont even gimme a smile, pretty lady?" He chuckled, laying himself firmly against me and crushing me into the pavement. My body gave an involuntary jolt as he pressed his lips to my collar bone. I was repulsed and scarred, but I had to wait, I couldn't act yet.

"Your gonna behave, and I'll make ya smile." He drawled, leaning in closer. I bit into my bottom lip.

Soon I could flee; get away from this man and out of this situation, but first I had to be patient. I had to breath. "Will you be good?" The man asked while hesitantly taking a hand away from one of my pinned wrists. Gulping, I gave a feeble nod and watched him slowly give a lopsided smile, flashing slightly crooked teeth at me.

He shifted his weight off of my body, kneeling on the cobblestone to unbuckle his trousers. Just as he did so I took in a deep breath and quickly brought one of my legs up in between his. The dark haired Breton shouted and swore, both hands flying down to take a hold of himself. With all my strength, I pushed his body off of me and jumped to my feet. Adrenaline pumped, I bolted toward the streetlights.

Once I was under the light of an oil lamp and in a patrolling guards sight, I was safe. But the time it takes to run away from an alley with a lurking 'predator' close by, and get to a lamppost is always terrifying.

It feels like it takes an eternity, like the very roads you run on turn to quicksand beneath your feet. You never know if they'll follow you, all you know is to never look back, just straight ahead.

I could barley hear the pattering of my feet as I ran, all I could hear was the blood thudding loudly in my ears and my harsh breaths as I took in the stale night air. _"Don't look back he could be following, don't look back you'll get scarred and panic. Breath, breath, breath…" _

xxxx

I don't like nightmares, especially when you once lived them and the dream is just a horrifically vivid memory.

I gasped, sitting up straight in bed with my arms out in front of me, groping the air helplessly. My eyes scanned the darkness of the bedroom, still searching for my streetlamp. Desperately, I tried to quiet my breath and thumping heart. I knew I wasn't in danger but I couldn't help but to be afraid with the nightmare still fresh in my mind.

Despite my surroundings and the knowledge that I was safe, I still felt terrified. My hands griped the coarse bed sheets as I closed my eyes. I could still smell the alcohol, feel the mans hands on me, and the cold ground beneath my back. That dream, that nightmare, wasn't an object of imagination, but a situation I had escaped from, one of the many situations I had escaped from.

Pulling the blankets to my chest, I gave a long sigh. _"It was only a dream" _I reassured again, _"it wont…it cant happen again. I'm safe here." _Looking down I noticed that I was shaking in my bed. I felt rather silly for doing so. It wasn't like me to get so distressed over a dream.

The night that this _situation_ had occurred I wasn't as upset as I am now. I dealt with it and tried my best to forget it.

With a rigid sigh, I lied back down into my bed and stared up to the stone ceiling. All those years on the streets really do harden you. Back then, I was unfazed by my nightly attackers and _never_ would have begun to shake over a scary dream.

Funny, how I never thought that I was lucky. Every time I was grabbed, pinned, threatened or trapped, I got away, before any harm was done. Of course I had battle scars from my fights, but I still had my dignity and pride. How many other woman who where homeless for five whole years can say that?

And look at me now, in a warm bed, currently silently sobbing over my shameful history and thinking on the horrors of what could have happened.

"_I'm just being silly."_ Hastily I rubbed my surely bloodshot eyes and snuggled further into the mattress, hugging my pillow like a small child would a stuffed animal. _"No one can try harm me now." _

Regardless of how much I reassured myself, I knew I wouldn't get anymore sleep. On the rare occasions that I do have a night terror, they make me scared to go to bed. I'm always afraid I will dream the same thing or have a worse nightmare. I swallowed hard and pulled the blankets over my head. It was far to early for me to get up, and the bed was warm enough to make me stay.

I have been having such good sleep recently to. Honestly I have not a clue as to what caused my dream. The past few nights its been nothing but strange castles and funny apron wearing lizards. Hardly terrifying.

No longer needing a clock to know the time, as I am fairly good at guessing by now, I would say it's around six in the morning. That gives me fourteen hours to lie in bed and do nothing. Which suits me just fine, I'm not really much of a morning person.

Seeing as I was alone though, Tualga and Rheena's new shifts give me plenty of loner time, I could read.

I groped under my bed and carefully pulled out The Book of Daedra. The book belongs to Shum gro Yarug, the butler. He was nice enough to give me it though after he spotted me rereading it for about the third time. I knew the book word for word by now but still its all I have. Its mildly interesting facts, albeit obvious facts, about the six Daedric prince's.

For no reason in particular, I have always found Daedra interesting. Nocturnal and Sheogorath especially, for rather silly reasons.

I find it highly amusing; the Mad God who is supposed to be mad, and yet dressing as a banker and writes poetry on his, 'golden road' to insanity.

Nocturnal because she seems so mysterious and I secretly yearn to know how the Grey fox took her cowl. Moreover, why she wears a cowl in the first place. Surely you cant be seen in the dark, what is the point in wearing a mask if your already hidden?

XXXX

"_It isn't fair."_ He irritably noted, looking back down at the letter in his hands. Here he was, sitting in this dimly lit room within his lonely old castle while his closest friend was having the time of his undead life. Teaching his newest and most 'outspoken' pupil, the ways of the shadow, all the while laughing at the Counts predicament.

Janus on the other hand, did not find his situation comical. Not in the slightest.

With yet another irritated huff, he crumpled then tossed the parchment, not caring where it landed as long as it was out of sight. And decided that he would not correspondence right away. He was in no mood.

For the past few days the Count had tried his best to get used to his newest maid. But no matter how much effort he put into trying to ignore her presence, he simply could not. And it wasn't necessarily her presence that was bothering him either. No, it was the fact that he never knew where she was until she would just randomly pop into his line of vision. Several times, nearly making him jump.

It was the most irritating and uncomfortable situation one could ever find themselves in, according to him. Janus needed to constantly be on alert and listen for her breathing or the beating of her heart to know whether or not she was nearby. For if he was too engrossed in a book, or his usual daily activities and was not paying attention to his surroundings, he would look up and see her off in the back of the room.

But that wasn't even the _worst _part though. The _worst_ thing was that whenever he looked in her direction, or made eye contact with her, she would freeze, stop whatever she was doing, wring her hands, bite her lip and bow her head.

"_In that very same order." _He mused. Having watched her do it several times now, he would mentally check off her actions as if they were on a list whenever he watched her. That, of course, he would do for his own amusement, as it was the only thing that he found in this situation slightly laughable.

The Count would have thought by now that she would have been more…at ease with her situation. Yet she still acted as though he would sever her head himself if she did something wrong. Granted, on occasion, he would like to.

At the moment though, he was considering removing his very own head from his shoulders because the clock read seven thirty. That meant he had only a half an hours worth of peace left before _she_ came. And how he was dreading her attendance.

Had she not been so efficient in her work, he would have dismissed her and continued the old routine; a quick cleaning once a week. But he certainly did not want to go back to that, as he had not been this comfortable in his own home for quite some time.

Comfortable, in the sense that everything was clean, though only when he was alone could enjoy this small comfort.

The Count desperately wanted to do something, to make her quirky…no. She was rather graceful when she didn't know he was watching…_fidgeting_ ways stop. It was tiresome; to see someone so at peace one moment only to watch them inadvertently switch, being almost skittish the next moment, once they realized they were being watched.

A calming spell seemed to be the simplest and best thing to do. The most rational. But he wouldn't even dare to do such a thing. To cast a spell for defense on someone was one thing, but to constantly hit her with secret enchantments seemed rather…cowardly.

He was going to have to face this like a man.

Grimacing, Janus shook his head, trying his best to think of the most appropriate way to come out a winner in this 'battle'. _"To think some Counts strike their servants to get them in line. All I usually have to do is smile." _The comment was a sarcastic one, meant to make him pity himself, but strangely enough, it gave him an idea. A good one.

"_Smile…Be nice. No, be civil."_

He wasn't sure if he was capable of being nice, but civil, he knew he could manage. He had learned to be civil to many powerful and influential people whom he despised for over decades now. Surely he could play the part to a scared little girl.

And so for the sake of his very sanity he was going to be the most civil Count on Nirn.

xxxx

"Its already seven thirty?" I asked myself staring up at the small clock in disbelief. The day seemed to go by so quickly. All I did was get dressed and read today, really.

"Hmm?" Rheena looked up from her plate, mouth still full of food. "You say something Lynn?"

I nodded and pointed to the clock. "Time." My answers were still soft and my words rather small, but I did talk now. Though I wish I could say more, even about mundane things. Alas, I still only speak when provoked. As if it must be involuntary.

"Ah." she remarked while reaching for the water pitcher. "Don't feel like working? _Believe_ _me_ I know what you mean. My feet are killing me."

I gave a weak smile and placed my sewing on the table and away from Rheena's mess. I still don't have many clothes. Besides her and Tualga's garments I have nothing. Them both being rather bigger than me, I'm forced to hem whenever I get the chance.

Sewing can be relaxing though so I really don't mind. Still, after several pricked fingers you begin to curse five feet, seven inches, and your fathers Breton blood.

Sighing, I stood. Straightening my skirt, placing several stray hairs behind my ears, and gathered up my things.

"Did…Did Tualga say when she would get back?" I asked from over my shoulder as I put various sewing equipment away. The maids, mainly the older ones, all leave their sewing kits out. We all have use for it occasionally, but I think I'm the only young maid who finds it enjoyable. I cant understand why though. Sometimes its fun to make pretty things.

Though, they have more freedom then I. So, its probably better to by them.

"Nope." She replied, "You know her though. She takes forever when it comes to shopping. Or shall I say gallivanting at bars when she's supposed to be doing the shopping?"

I shrugged, not really seeing a need to reply. Once every few days some of the servants get set off to shop. The castle is always full of people, mainly hired hands, so something is always needed or running out. Tualga is one of those people who goes on the trip to Skingrad shops whenever she can.

Honestly I'm a bit jealous. I haven't been outside in…months now. Then again, I'm safe in here, there is no need to be jealous.

xxxx

Work. I did so quickly. As always, it was uneventful. Really there is not much to be done, a quick 'do over' from the previous night. Still, a four hour shift is a four hour shift, no use to complain. One cannot argue when they lack the voice.

Not that I feel the need to argue. I don't mind wandering the manor, for there is much to look at.

Just today for example, I found that the Count owns a piano. It doesn't look like its been touched in years, but it just goes to show how big his home is. How could I miss a piano? Granted, everything is dark here. I'll probably never get used to this lighting.

"_I do miss the sunshine." _

I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my mind. To think of the sun in his castle seems taboo to me. Although, he does keep a lot of paintings of the sun, or just bright days in general. Then again not many famous artists in Cyrodiil paint much else.

He seems to favor the works done by Rythe Lythandas. My mother used to too. Back in Anvil, she would save up money to by his paintings. As a healer with a big family it took time for her to raise such money, but it was a hobby for her nonetheless, and she had found pride in it. There was at least one of his paintings in every room.

Like I said, It was a hobby for her, until she stumbled across alcohol.

But I digress. I'm in no mood to dwell on such things anymore. The past is most certainly the past. No one can change it, and honestly I'm not sure I want to.

I may not be 'happy', but I am…content now. Which is the 'happiest' I have been in years.

Content. It reminds me of the painting in front of me actually. There is only one lady in it of course, looking out at the sunset, not smiling or frowning, just looking at the beauty of it all before her. Just like me.

Rythe Lythandas is a very good artist indeed, he captured this moment so well…

"Do you like that?"

I whipped around so quickly that I dropped my bag and nearly fell, staring upward awkwardly, wide eyed at the man who had been behind me. I was not been expecting to be asked such a question, moreover even spoken to. Especially not by the Count, whom never utters a word in my direction.

In the back of my mind I wondered how long he had been standing there. Was I so lost in the painting that I did not hear him call to me?

"_Am I in trouble?"_

Upon meeting his gaze, I hastily bowed, trying my best to stop my sudden shakes. Then I remembered he had asked me a question. I was baffled though, and could not recall for the life of me what it was he said. Knowing that its rude to not answer the Count of Skingrad's question immediately, I straightened, every intention of asking him politely to repeat himself…

My voice had gone from me once again. Try as I might I couldn't make a sound. It feels as though an invisible hand clamps around your throat. Enabling you to breath, but not to talk. The only sound I could have made was a squeak, which I had no intention of doing so as that would make me look more like a fool.

Instead I nervously balled up my apron and looked up at him in a slightly quizzical sort of way.

He always seemed so composed. The most 'uncivilized' thing I have ever seen him do was sigh. It must be a terrible burden to remain placid all the time. But he didn't seem fazed by it…not that I would have been able to tell if he was or not.

"The painting?" he continued, cocking his head to the side slightly toward the picture. "You have been looking at it for a good ten minutes. I take that as you like it?"

I blinked, slightly mystified. It was such a mundane question, yet it struck me as the strangest thing on Nirn. _"Why is he talking to me?" _

What little I know and have learned about nobles and servants, is that they do not _coexist_. Nobles think maids are like the rags that we use. Filthy, easily replaced but mildly useful. They pretend we don't exist and we pretend that part of our job is being invisible.

If the two classes mix, its usually never for the better. If we do someone gets fired, or in this case 'let go'.

Naturally I find it more than strange. The Count has been portrayed to me is as a quiet, cantankerous, demanding, Imperial man. Not the sort to converse with his hired hands. Especially not the one that he practically took in, for no self gain.

But perhaps he simply wants something. Maybe instead of asking straight out for me to do something for him he starts a small conversation. That does seem the most logical thing.

"You do speak Cyrodiilic, correct?"

I blushed. His words were not cruel, but I still could sense a sourness in them. Like what one does when forcing kindness. A bittersweet wordplay that probably works on chatty nobles. Talkative people often overlook sarcasm and hints of cruelty in speech.

Maybe he has momentarily forgotten that he is speaking to someone who never does talk. I listen and absorbed every little bit of language, whether bodily or spoken.

"Or perhaps I had been hallucinating the last time we spoke?" Harder words this time, not enough for me to identify them as rude though. Still they had hints of what I like to call, 'verbal barbs'. That's when someone asks you a question, but the its more of a last chance before they make you answer, question.

I swallowed hard and slumped slightly, head bowing to the floor. "No." I murmured. Inwardly I was again giving myself small praise. I spoke more, but only could when I looked away.

"No? No you do not like the picture, or no, I was not imagining things?"

He was teasing me. He must be. Why else would he ask me: silly, little, incompetent, Abigale Lynn, such a big question, when he knows its hard for me to answer?

Maybe he is just one of those people who likes to feel above than everyone else. He could find enjoyment in demeaning people and making them look foolish. Many do, as it makes them look smart.

"I…" I glanced over my shoulder toward the painting, wringing my hands to the point where I could have set them aflame with friction. "I like it. Sir." The pause after that was brief but in my still very stunned reality it stretched.

"So I've gathered." He answered finally then stepped to me, not directly but to my side. I flinched as he did so, but otherwise remained unfazed. Whether or not he is a vampire, or a Count, he is a man. And I don't like it when men are too near me.

If your within close vicinity, you are more vulnerable.

"But what do you like about it, exactly?" He looked past me to the picture on the wall, the very picture I was becoming to despise. Why more questions? _Why_ more words? Does he not see this cursed apron, has he forgotten proper behavior?

I was now so utterly confused that I abandoned all attempts at keeping up formal poise. I was a bewildered maid, might as well act like one. "Sir?…"

There was a long silent's. The Count didn't look at me or repeat his question, but I could almost sense his expectance. He thought I was going to willingly answer him? Perhaps he does have a sense of humor. Still, I take it as an order. _"What do I like the most about this picture?…" _

"The sky." I said meekly, once again beginning to fidget. "He…he is very good at, the, landscapes."

The Count then glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "_He_?"

"Rythe Lythandas, sir." I answered, my eyes flicking at the edges of the painting briefly to look for his initials, something that most artist scribe in their pictures.

"Yes. I am surprised you know of him. Not many…_had been _thief's, take an interest in art. Not unless there is value to it." I stared at the floor sheepishly. _"That was uncalled for…" _

"I wonder, do you know of any others?"

I glanced back up at the painting and sighed heavily. Of course I did. There were so many in Anvil. Stopping by to capture the sunset or sunrise on the coast. I had always watched them with envy; it cost money to buy such materials.

"Every one that's ever picked up a brush…" I answered easily and honestly. Too honestly. Half of me couldn't believe that those words came out of my mouth so, _smoothly_. Not once did I stammer. The other half scolded me for doing so, your not supposed to act familiar to the Count. Invisible maids don't drawl.

A simple 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed.

On instinct, I quickly brought my hands up to clasp over my mouth. Wondering again, _how_ and _why_, did I say that?

For a moment all I did was stare up at him bug-eyed with my hands still pressing against my lips. I was afraid to put them back at my sides actually. I didn't want something to slip out again.

I was grateful, for he didn't seem the least bit fazed. Barley casting a curious glance in my direction. Maybe he was used to seeing people act like me. Maybe I'm not as strange as I thought.

"Interesting." he mused, turning back to me. "How do you know of them?"

Biting hard into my lip, I gently placed my hands back to my sides. Feeling silly for overreacting in such a way. Then thinking of the simplest way to answer this unnecessary question. "Anvil. My home, sir. There were many."

"Anvil is your real home then? My sources tell me that you have taken residence in Skingrad for several years. Why the change?"

I swallowed hard. "Sources, sir?" I asked meekly. The question itself was involuntary. It is just a very awkward and uncomfortable thing; to know that someone out there is looking into your history, on that notion you suddenly lose a small bit of reserve.

"Of course. You didn't think I would allow you here without knowing a bit about you?" He smiled, regarding me from slightly narrowed eyes, "That would be rather foolish of me. To let someone who I don't know stay in my home. Prier knowledge is important. You could have been dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I repeated, almost with a breath of laughter. Thinking back to how pathetic I was, sobbing on his floor, begging for his mercy…I was an embarrassment, really. Though could I be blamed? I hold no shame for how I reacted.

"Never judge a book by its cover."

My face crumpled, but only for a moment. Call me silly if you like, but I don't think I ever herd of that saying before. It was most certainly a proverb. I could tell by the way he almost recited it. It took me a second to figure what it meant, but only a second I assure you.

It wasn't that hard to find the logic in it.

"Text is what matters." I mumbled aloud and to myself. Simple yet genius. That saying held so much meaning yet the words itself sound flat when spoken. You must really think about it to find its importance.

"Come again?" he asked, brows slightly quirked with an almost curious smile on his lips.

Quickly I shook my head. I did it again, spoke freely. It must have something to do with being around him and under pressure. People when scarred or nervous tend to babble, maybe I'm one of those people. That's not such a bad thing.

Dare I say its almost…interesting to talk? Interestingly uncomfortable. Not something I could easily get used to.

His brow rose further while he watched me begin to stammer, the word 'nothing' barley audible on my lips.

"Very well then." He said with a nod, "You are dismissed, for the evening." The Count gave me one more calculating glance before turning to leave. I bowed as he turned and left wordlessly, all the while wondering why he let me off early.

Probably sees me as a nuisance. I knew I spoke to much.

XXXX

"_Curious little thing." _He thought with a smile as he entered his bedchamber. She had made the most comical expressions. He had forgotten how much faces contorted with simplest speech. Although, speech did not seem simple for the maid.

Poor girl was almost a mute. Her voice was small, and she choked on her words with almost every sentence, but he could tell it was all shyness. Not an actual speech impediment.

To the Count, it was amusing. One moment she was quiet, the next she spoke. Almost opportunistic words. She could talk if she wanted to, it was just an unknown action to the girl. Perhaps she was never talked to much as a small child. That would make sense.

Or maybe she never had anyone to talk to or relate to in the past. She did seem rather surprised when they had talked about the painting. _Talked_, the girl actually partook in the words. Maybe she just didn't share the same interests as others and turned partially mute, only speaking when necessary.

Either way she was fun to watch. He would never openly admit that he somewhat enjoyed watching her struggle for words. It was his own private torment and a small piece of revenge. If she wanted to fidget constantly then he might as well give her reason to.

And what better way to make a shy person squirm then to force them into conversation?

Though, he would much rather have her be a relaxed, calm and quiet maid, but that would take time. Janus would just have to stealthily coax her out of her timid ways, until they were on level, Master and Servant ground. It would take much more than just one random conversation, and this he knew.

But is a small way, he almost looked forward to seeing his quirky, little, maid again. Though the dialog they shared was awkward and forced, it was nice to hold a conversation.

* * *

Authors Notes: Aww. See? I did like this chapter. Hassildor is lonely. XD I find it cute...O.o Ehem.


	11. The Book of Names

_Authors Notes: Longest chapter for anything I've ever written…but I was planning on making the chapters for this story longer anyway. Sorry for lack of reviews, updates, and responses -.-' But, I have a computer now sooo here I am :D. I figured its time for everyone to see more of Hassildors view on Abigale Lynn, we all see what she thinks in their meetings, so its his turn. I'm sorry about this chapter. Its not bad…(my opinion btw XD) but…my own writing and story plotting is depressing me XDXD. Eh, ignore the hormonal musings of a weird teenager :3 Enjoy the chapter. More long notes at the end, please don't hit me :X_

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter nine: The Book of Names

I felt a bit strange when walking back to the maids quarters. The conversation I shared with the Count was so meaningless that I found it hard to fathom. There was no need to talk to me and he had not asked that I get him anything either so I was left to wonder _why_. Counts are not supposed to converse with their maids unless they want something of them.

Then again I could be taking this all too seriously. Perhaps he had just been incredibly bored. Its possible. I shouldn't let it bother me so, but I don't like to make a fool of myself in front of anyone - which is inevitable once I'm forced to talk. He probably thinks there's something the matter with me. I wouldn't blame him. How could I when I blabber and stutter like a fool?

But what if he gets more annoyed with me now for that? He wouldn't want an incompetent worker. I don't think anyone would, especially not a Count, or moreover any royalty. That worsens matters. I cant act so ridiculous around him, he will get angry with me and no longer want me near him or require my presence anywhere else in the castle. I cant have that, any of it. I must remain calm and force myself into equilibrium when in his presence. It's the only way to maintain my position and keep the peace.

xxxx

I continued down the stairs quietly until I arrived in the maids sitting area. No one seemed to be about at the moment. I was grateful because I didn't feel too well. Right now I have a thick head, cloudy mind, and just want to get some rest. But the silence was too good to be true. When I pushed open the door to my room I found myself in a heated, whispered discussion.

"How far along are you?"

My stomach muscles tightened as I quickly identified the voice and the conversations topic. I seem to be jumping from one awkward situation to the next nowadays.

"Three months." Rheena answered flatly. Her tone of voice almost startled me; it was very unlike what I'm used to hearing, it was flat and guilty sounding yet held a firmness to it. I've heard that tone used many times. Mostly by the same person too.

"Well that's bloody fantastic Rheena." Tualga snapped. "How long did you think you could keep this all a secret? Good gods, who's the father? Not that darn stable hand I hope."

I approached the two of them silently. Neither of them looked up at me but I hadn't expected them to. They both sat on their beds whispering angrily across the room at each other. They had probably just woken up to start the day when Rheena finally told her secret.

"For your information," she started haughtily. "Verick _is_ the father. He and I are very happy. We're planning to-"

"Happy? Happiness dies hun. How do you expect to make a living? Sure you can have the baby here but do you honestly think the Count is gonna let you keep some squawking bundle? And what of Verick? He's certainly not going to want to do this on his own, and if you quit your job neither of you could get by. Forget about the baby, you wouldn't be able to feed yourself!"

Tualga's rant was something you would expect to hear from an angry or hurt family member. It was obvious she was just afraid for Rheena. But what's done is done. All anger will soon fade away once the child is born. But sadly that bliss never lasts long. I give it three weeks until reality starts to settle in on any parent.

Once you have a baby your life is no longer your own. Not many can digest that well. It a scary thing but it's a fact.

I knew I could do nothing so I strode past the two of them and went to my bed. I undressed as their argument continued. Sometimes the levels of noise would raise and then die, like waves on an grey day. Eventually it would fade, peace would return and the new would become the norm. I just prey that Rheena never asks for a babysitter...

No sooner had I pulled the covers from my bed I overheard Tualga say with a much more uplifting tone, "Have you thought of any names?" Smiling into the darkness I shook my head and listened to Rheena begin the list of possible names she had piled up. I soon drifted into sleep sometime around girl names that began with the letter N.

XXXX

It was still several hours before dawn once the Count had entered an all too familiar and all too dreaded room. Deep within the castle, bellow the basement and directly bellow his own bedchamber was where he presently stood. He hated it here, it smelt of death, mold, and frozen decay; like cold meat slowly rotting covered by a heavy fog of perfume. It was a repulsing odor but try as he might it wouldn't go away. His servants constantly scrubbed and cleaned the room to no avail.

To a human nose the smell went undetected. _Luck them_.

The stone beneath the heel of his boots clacked loudly. The sound pierced his eardrums and echoed off the walls for a good few seconds. Constant taunts; this room wouldn't stop making itself known to him. He would swear that it strived to make every bad memory come flooding back -which it succeeded in. The Count did not have one good thought to dote upon about this room. It was just another thing he hated about the place. But no matter what evils dwelled within the Chamber of Fate he would brave them. For the one he once loved gave him strength and the will to face them. Or at least that's what he told himself.

A soft orange glow enveloped the small lavish bedside, forcing some normalcy and warmth into such a cold crypt.

She would like that. She loved the color orange for some unfathomable reason.

Like a memory on repeat his body acted of its own accord. Once he stepped on the carpets he pulled the now rickety chair across the floor and to her side. It scraped loudly against the stone and creaked at his familiar weight. All these sounds and feelings were normal; just something he became accustom to.

The room wasn't that bad. It was stuffed with furniture and supplies for her care. But his constant demeanor seemed to permanently damper the atmosphere. Overtime it had become thick, cold, and heavy. But under the circumstance of his visit could he be blamed? It was only how he perceived things. Like the stench of the room it was all in his head. It was all repugnant only to him: the one who hated and loathed everything here.

As if he snapped from a trance he looked up to her face. Janus mentally winced. She had once been so beautiful it scared him to see her in such a state. No matter how many years passed it was something he could never get used to. Life was still beneath those heavily lidded eyes and gaunt features. It lied there with her waiting to be tapped and begging him to see to it, help her, save Rona. His beloved Rona.

If he closed his eyes he cold see her youthful face. The smallest of details he could remember: she once had many freckles, and dark brown hair, a big toothy smile with full lips. All features so eloquent and sharp it would make any mer jealous - which they all were, to his and her enjoyment. Everything on her had been unique, of course it always is when its on the person you love. But it wasn't her beauty that he missed so dearly, it was her voice, her laugh, her arm on his own, _everything_.

Looks be damned, she was his love. He missed her and thought about her each passing day. Every dream he saw her face and every nightmare she turned to ash in his hands. She would be swept up by the wind, gently and softly taken from his grasp. But no matter how the dreams were meant to be interpreted they left him screaming, weeping and nearly maddened in his sleep. Because of this he would let no wind ever graze her, and he would never let her go.

Janus sighed heavily through his nose - a mortal habit he could never quit - and leaned forward in his chair. The Count was tempted to touch her, any part so long as it was contact but he knew too well the memories it would invoke so fear kept him from doing so. He hadn't touched his wife in many years, he was tired of bloody tears staining his shirts.

She always looked at peace. He could not begin to fathom the dreams she was having. Was she plagued with the vampiric nightmares or was she so deep in sleep that it was dreamless? For her sake he prayed the latter.

By the state of her dress and neat setting of her hair the Count guessed she had been seen to recently. Which was good. Rona was never one to wander around in her bed-ware all day, no matter how her health was.

With everything in place he sat and waited. Never would he think of this as 'paying his respects', because it wasn't what he was doing. He was greeting his wife. No words or contact was needed - he had given up on those. As long as he could see her he felt reassured. She may not speak, move, or breath but she was there and alive in a sense.

If he was lucky then she wasn't as far-gone as he believed her to be. Maybe she was only sleeping and was still too tired to wake. He would remain patient. Surely she had to have _some_ train of thought. Maybe, _possibly_, she was still mulling over their situation. Although, he had told her time and time again that the province was thriving, their identity safe, and their condition livable she could still not be convinced. That was _if_ she could hear him. He doubted it.

If she could hear him and knew all those things then why wouldn't she wake up for him? He had begged her to simply _move_ countless times; for her to show a sign that he was heard, but never did she do anything. Rona was never one to remain motionless when someone she cared for was in distress, and she had cared for everyone.

But even as he stared at her now he could not bare to think about her. He would let his mind wonder to other things. It was a torment. A child having to stand in the corner and stare at the wall. He loved Rona and that would never change but her stubbornness was killing him.

Was vampirism that bad? Sure, you needed to feed off the living for their life source and life's blood, but other than that once you've mastered your strange carnal thoughts, hunger instincts, and learned composure was it bad enough to leave your spouse?

No, because she didn't even have the decency to do that. She lied there taunting him, her last request for him to end her suffering, too end her entirely,to let her 'sleep'. What type of wish is that to tell your love? An unfair one to put it lightly. She could have hung on and dealt with it. She could have stayed, they could have had forever.

Now they were both dead. But even in death they weren't united.

Fate was cruel to him. Had he been that bad of a man to deserve such a punishment as this by the Gods? He was once a loving husband, a good chapel abiding citizen, a just Count and fair political leader, he would have made a good father too.

xxxx

Recently I've realized something. I noticed how strange life is for the workers here. I had once been free to travel all across Cyrodiil, now I am never allowed to leave the place I live; I had anticipated changes, but I never would have imagined how drastic and odd those changes would be. They go about their daily business with smiles and laughs. None seem to find their positions disagreeable. Half the staff can only leave the castle once or twice a week. The rest are stuck here like me and only let out if shopping is needed.

I cant help but to wonder how much they get paid for that. I'm sure the Count provides their logging and such, but how many septims does it take to keep a person quiet and trustworthy? Perhaps he had to literally _buy_ trust. Bribing is often the best way to win another over, but if that were the case I don't think his province would be as rich as it is.

Then again he is a mage. I hear certain charm spells can be quite powerful. Some if done correctly are permanent. But that's a little scary and I don't think his staff is brainwashed from what I have seen.

Fear is also a good way to keep someone close. Look at me for example; in his debt eternally, and fear played the greatest part in making that happen. I went from a thieving beggar to the girl under his thumb, at his beck and call. Luckily he doesn't call me often excluding our last night conversation.

Of course that small-talk still has me thinking. Mostly I'm dreading work tonight because of it. I looked like such fool; a shrinking maid who talks to much or not at all. Its embarrassing to stutter and spout out random facts about myself. I don't think I ever use to do that before. Then again I was never commanded to actually speak. I had options and I chose to remain silent, I no longer have such a luxury.

Its all about pressure too - I have come to that conclusion - I never used to be afraid. I was unable to take good care to myself but I had kept myself alive and I trusted in my abilities to do so. Then one day its out of my hands and into another's. I no longer can truly protect myself. I dare not to doubt the Count or his word. I stay here for life, there is no alternative.

I know it sounds morbid but that's really not as bad as it seems. I give my life to someone and look where I am now: one of the hardest castles to get employed by, and the one with the highest pay too. I guess I can see why the other maids still dislike me, they think I'm getting money and got the job off of some random arrangement I had with the Count.

But this is where it stops because that's all they need to know, and it suits them just fine as they can make up any rumors about me as they please.

It wont bother me I suppose. If they knew the truth they wouldn't be so jealous over anything.

I think about the strangest things when I walk: glaring maids and promises I verbally swore too. It makes my stroll around the great hall more enjoyable. Without my thoughts I am alone, no one wishes to speak to me but that's alright, its how I prefer it.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the newest addition to the Counts most humble staff."

I spoke to soon.

I didn't recognize the voice, so I wasn't at all surprised when I turned around to see a strange blonde Imperial man.

He swaggered over with a book under his arm, taking strides that were far to long for such a stout man, and held his nose high; the look of arrogance plan across his features. Immediately I did not like him. It could be just my prejudice for the men of my main race; they prove to be more barbaric than any other when drunk despite what people say about Nords. Still I couldn't stop my anxiety from beginning to flow through me. At ten feet away he was already far to close for comfort, and by his clothes it was easy to tell he was someone of importance.

That's never good. If he dresses well then he has money, thus he thinks he owns everything. I speak from experience. You would be amazed if you knew what rich people really thought of you.

"Its truly a pleasure to meet you, _miss_?" I didn't answer him, even if I wanted to words seemed impossible. After a moment of silence he began to snicker. "Cat got your tongue?" He barked out several more laughs, eventually rocking closer to me on the balls of his feet. "Come now don't try the coy act with me. As castle steward, I demand a name. After all I have so longed to meet _you_; the very symbol, the very image, of our Counts kindness."

My lips pressed into a thin line. I didn't know the Count had another castle steward. Hal-Liurz is difficult enough, now I'm to deal with some pompous Imperial. I must have jinxed myself earlier. Nothing can be done about it now though.

I swallowed hard and gave an awkward bow, thus fueling his ego and dampening my pride, but I know better then to mock his type, I wont be taking any chances. "Abigale Lynn." I straightened to his smile, all the while trying my best to keep from running in the opposite direction out of fear and annoyance.

"_Wonderful_. I am Mercator Hosidus, the _head _steward as you now know. You'll pardon me for not meeting you sooner. Unlike _some_ other nobles I have work and people to see to, you understand…Well, actually you _wouldn't _understand, but lets not discuss your incompetents to politics and such. Best not to start on the wrong foot."

"_Wrong foot? Sir, you've already stepped on all ten toes."_ I nodded to him and agreed. It was better for me to stay out of trouble, I'll happily take a verbal smack rather than a physical one. But his words didn't bother me much, it was the emphasis he used in them…very irritating.

"Good, you know your place. I see why the Count likes you." He smiled, viciously tugging on a string that lay on the side of his book, looking at it as though it was the most interesting phenomenon. "Why he kept you was beyond me, _before_. Now that I see you though it explains itself. And I'm sure you keep him _entertained_ with your _silence_. He is not one for _idle_ chatter." Mercator chuckled as though he made some amazingly funny joke, then brought his attention back to me.

"You're a wonderful conversationalist though. Just how a worker should be…barley a peep. Although this has been a _most_ interesting encounter I'm afraid I have to take my leave, but I'll need you to run a little errand for me now that _I _have _you_."

By now I was so shaky from my unused adrenaline and irritated from his consistent drawling that I would have done just about anything to get away. I nodded frantically and tried my best to remain still.

"Here," Mercator held the book out for me. "I understand you are one of few who holds a key to the Counts manor. Take this book to him or put it in his library. I don't care which, so long as he knows its been…_returned_."

I took the book but didn't even glance at its covering. "I-Is…" I sighed in annoyance at myself. "Is that all sir?"

He waved a hand at me, "Yes, yes now scamper off to him will you? Between us the Count's rather _formidable _if his things are not returned on time. For your sake the wind had better be on your back." I gave another quick bow and turned, heading up the staircase but not in the direction of the manor.

xxxx

I closed yet another set of doors behind me. I had not reached the manor but at least I managed to put some distance between myself and the steward. "What an awful little man." I breathed, leaning against the now closed doors.

I sighed heavily through my nose and frowned at my fears. I cant even hold a conversation with someone - no matter how revolting they are - without it ending badly. I end up locking myself away somewhere. But at least away from it all I am safe.

Maybe if circumstances were different and people could act civil towards me I wouldn't be so jumpy. Maybe if life wasn't as hard as it was I wouldn't be who I am today. Maybe I would talk, smile, and be married to one of my father's many friends.

Married and miserable with a pushy husband more skittish and frightened than me.

XXXX

The stewardess watched Hosidus and the little maid. She never liked Mercator but tolerated him all the same. The Count didn't seem to fond of him either but he insisted that she keep close to him and observe his 'methodical ways'.

Hal-Liurz was no fool, obviously the stubby Imperial was up to something the Count didn't like and she was to act as an agent to keep suspicion from the Count himself. Although she didn't like being used as metaphorical bate she obeyed all the same, just as every other staff member did. That still didn't keep her from disliking Mercator Hosidus, or loath having to watch his moves, she really hated it. It was boring of course but she had more important things to deal with then sneak about and be down wind from a man who ate far to many beans for his own good.

Today she wasn't complaining. Mercator was doing something off of his usual routine. He was talking to Abigale Lynn, better known amongst the staff as 'The Quiet One' or 'The Conservative One'. That bugged the Stewardess as well. She never heard so many complaints and rumors from her underlings before about another worker. Most woman were naturally competitive and in Skingrad greedy, but that didn't change the matter. She was a stewardess; highly thought of amongst the other provinces, she wasn't supposed to lie through her teeth just to keep revolting, avaricious maids off the Counts back. Nor was she supposed to keep Abigale Lynn away from cruel co-workers, she knew the poor thing didn't have a backbone and she didn't want to see her flinch anymore then necessary.

She could partially understand the other girls jealousy though. Abigale Lynn came from nowhere, knew nobody, _is_ a nobody, yet she ended up with one of the highest paying jobs a commoner could achieve. Many distasteful rumors had already spread about the castle because of this, her having to work all night didn't help that gossip either. The ones who knew of the Counts disease thought she was his recent food supply and implied many offensive and disgusting things. But those who didn't know of his state made up their own accusations about him and the girl. Each rumor was frowned upon by the stewardess but she made no attempts to silence them. It was easier to cover up the previous little incidents and girl's position that way.

Now though Hal-Liurz was more puzzled than annoyed. As she watched Mercator and the maid she noticed a rather old tome he was almost discreetly handing her. No sooner had Abigale bid him farewell did she bolt to the door, Mercator's behavior almost matched her own; he quickly left the castle.

It was probably nothing of course but Hal-Liurz knew of the girl's love for books and she happened to know that Hosidus recently handled some sort of record from the Count because the butler had been late on returning it.

With a furrowed brow she turned and left, not wanting to get the girl or steward into trouble - unless needed be - but she needed to inform the Count of her findings, however minute and probably unimportant they were.

XXXX

The Count locked the door to the Chamber of Fate behind him and headed up the winding staircase. With one hand on the rail and the other on his brow he rubbed his temples gingerly. Although he held much dislike for the room he hated leaving it even more. He always felt guilty coming up the steps, each footfall felt heavier as though his conscience was trying to pull him back and make him stay just a minute longer.

Luckily for him his guilty thoughts were quickly silenced as another figure came into view on the stairs.

"Good day my Lord." His stewardess began. Hal-Liurz flashed him a sympathetic smile, the one that plainly praised him for seeing Rona again. He was in no mood for that usual smile so he continued up the steps motioning her to follow him.

"Leaving the Countess so soon?" She asked quietly, mainly to herself.

The Count shot her a dark look from the corner of his eye, and thankfully it silenced her - something he couldn't do often with this nagging old Argonian. "Do you have something of importance to say to me or have you simply tracked me down in attempts to make me feel worse? I'm in no mood today, make it quick whatever you have to say."

"Forgive me, perhaps it can be dealt with later?" She offered with that same warm smile.

He hated that. He hated a lot of things but he really hated that. Every time he exited Rona's accursed room Hal-Liurz would find him and expect him to tell her that he finally had some strange epiphany regarding the Countess. Those epiphanies she hoped for usually revolved around granting Rona 'peace'. Sometimes he felt like the only person on Nirn with a brain. There was no peace in death and he was an ideal example. Everyone who had once been so close to him and Rona now felt far. How could they ask him to end his own wife?

Not that they asked. They all stopped pestering him about it after he threw a bad enough tantrum.

"You've come all this way for something, obviously it cannot." He replied acidly. "So what is it?"

As if she was literally tone-deaf that smile still remained plastered on her scaly face. It had the opposite effect that it was supposed to. Instead of making him feel better…it made him tempted to pull her tail off.

"I have been watching Mercator Hosidus as you ordered, my Lord." The Count only grunted so Hal-Liurz continued. "Today he did nothing special, he did his usual activities. But just a moment ago I saw something that I thought was a bit peculiar."

He finally stopped walking to face her with a rather uninterested expression, waiting and hoping she would continue so he could leave the stairwell.

"He had a brief _chat _with your newest worker, Abigale Lynn."

Janus mentally snorted, _"I doubt it." _

"Mercator gave her a book. I thought it could be the one I overheard you speaking of to Shum gro-Yarug. I believe he gave it to her so she could put it away, but she didn't head in your manors direction. She might have taken a quick detour--"

He barley registered all else said, with one word she made his every nerve jump. _"Book."_

The Count felt his muscles tighten and a sudden surge of anger pound in his already aching temples. There was only one book that left his home, one that should have never gotten into Mercator's hands, nor in the hands of a had-been thief who had a liking for books.

"Was this book blue?" He asked slowly, his tone quickly taking on a dangerously low level. "Perhaps it had gold seams and was thick, worn even?"

Hal-Liurz blinked at his sudden interest in the conversation, more so at the irritation and the look on his face that he only would get when furious over something. She sometimes thought of him as a fanged teakettle. He didn't hiss or turn red, but Hal-Liurz could always tell when he was getting mad.

"Yes," She continued, remaining utterly calm for anyone else within such a small space with an angry vampire. "It was the one you had Shum gro-Yarug get repaired. The old one that needed some--"

"That maid ran off with it?"

"No, she didn't necessarily run, I think she went to go put it back."

The Count snarled. "You think?" His face had begun to contort but Hal-Liurz was used to such mood-swings. Janus Hassildor always had a poor temper, even in life. Before the Stewardess could comment further he turned and marched up the stairs as if he was on a mission. She winced as she listened to the door at the top of the stairs slam closed and wondered briefly if she just got Abigale Lynn in more trouble than necessary.

"That poor girl has got terrible luck." She mumbled under her breath as she went to take her turn to see the Countess.

xxxx

I could tell just by the lighting in the manor that the Count wasn't here. I didn't know where he could go during the daytime. Honesty I thought he might have been sleeping, but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that wasn't true. From what I hear he rarely sleeps and only does when it's a necessity. That came as a bit of a shocker to me. Call me simple but I thought vampires slept a lot more than the living. Being brought up on certain vampire stories I knew they slept, I just thought they did it for weeks at a time and only got up when hungry.

I seem to learn something different here everyday, which is good as it helps me to function easier under his rule. I guess you don't always need to have your nose in a book to learn something new. Mostly life teaches the essentials.

I fingered the spine of the book as I walked, having kept it hugged to my chest the entire time I didn't know what it was called. I did not want to get in trouble for flipping through one of the Count's books but the temptation to peek inside was there.

My footsteps slowed slightly as I stole a glace at the cover. It looked old, very old, but had several stitches along its length as if it had been recently repaired. I felt a bit of admiration for the Count; he takes well care of his books, I smiled slightly at that. Its nice to know I'm not the only one it the world who cherishes literature.

Pulling it away from my body I decided that no harm came from looking at the cover of the book, but what I saw puzzled me, it was not what I had expected.

It was certainly timeworn; the once royal blue covering had faded to an ashy grey and some of the covers lettering was almost illegible. It was ancient and torn but I still could make out a picture of a great white bird on the cover and its title. "The Book of Names…?" I said quietly as I gently flipped the tome around in my hands, looking for some other indication on what it was about. I found nothing, so with a shrug I set back down the hall and opened the book.

The title was not as deceiving as I thought it was meant to be. This certainly was a book of names, many names, even my names. At first I thought it was a strange record until I skimmed through it further and noticed the little faded print that told of the names meanings.

My eyes widened and my smile grew as I flipped through the pages a bit faster. It was all children names and under the circumstances it was a rather useful tool. I thought of Rheena and her soon to be born baby, I knew she'd love this book. But I couldn't help myself from being nosey and doing the natural thing that everyone does when they find a log like this: I looked for myself and the people I knew.

My name was there of course but it was spelt differently. I also found my sisters name, father's, mother's brother's, Rheena, Tualga…the book had it all, names for every race, I even found the Count's and Mercator's.

But as I approached the library doors I gently closed the book and reached into my pocket for its key. I still wanted to look through it but the book wasn't mine and I didn't want to loiter here for too long especially if I didn't have to.

No sooner had I placed the key in the lock of the door did I hear someone coming up from behind me. I didn't have the time to turn around, in one brief moment the book was snatched from my hands. Obviously it was an artifact of some interest, I don't think the Count would have grabbed it from me so roughly otherwise.

At first I just bit my lip and didn't move. I scrunched my eyes closed - the complete opposite of what I should have done - but once you've seen an angry vampire once you really don't want to relive it and see one again. Its like being pulled into dark waters even though you cannot swim.

"What are you doing with this?" He snapped. "Who allowed you to even touch it? _I _don't remember granting you permission."

I sharply turned to him with every intent to once again plead my innocents, but when seeing the bottled rage in his face all I could do was shake my head and back further into the door. "The steward! H-he, he…" I swallowed hard as I listen to my voice abruptly stop, I couldn't keep my mind on what I was saying, I just wanted to get away. His eyes were locked onto my own, and I could feel the anger emanating off him, but it was his stare and his face that had me speechless. His features had barley shifted from his usual placidity but it was easy to tell he was mad. I just wish I knew what I did wrong this time.

He took another step forward and I instinctively through my arms up to cover my face. "Foolish child." He hissed. It was so much more than hard but I had to force myself to stand there and take whatever he was going to say or do. I couldn't run away anymore, I have no place to run and if he's mad now I don't even want to try to contemplate what he'd look like after my failed attempts to flee.

XXXX

The Count wasn't sure if he should find her more annoying, pathetic, or infuriating. All he did was step forward and she thrust up her arms as if she was bracing herself for a beating. And though his fingers flexed in anger he wouldn't touch the girl. In anger or not he wouldn't even consider it, not that he knew why but it felt wrong to do so, even thinking about touching her was bad.

Foolish child indeed. He knew that she would say no more about anything, he was becoming accustom to her strange speech patterns but that didn't make him less irritated. He was mad, very mad, but it took him only a second to realize that he had no reason to be angry. The book was fine, she had only meant to return it. He wanted to be violent at someone for such an injustice yes, but it was foolish for him to interrogate the girl if he already knew how and why she had his book. Inevitably she would be spared from one of his famous tantrums…but Shum gro-Yarug may not be so luck.

If he started to shout then _he_ would look like the foolish child in the situation, which wasn't the best way to show her his humility.

So it wasn't sympathy that made him take a step back, but civility. If he wanted her to stop being jumpy then he had to stop himself from wanting to verbally maul her for no reason. Moreover it wasn't right for him to take his frustrations out on the innocent bystander of the predicament - _so far _she had done nothing wrong.

Shum was to be the one getting the sharp end of the sword for allowing Mercator to handle his things...

With a concentrated effort he unclenched his teeth and loosen the already fragile book in his grasp. "You will pardon me." He said with the slightest angry quiver in his voice. "I had reason to…" The Count pursed his lips and decided to use her history as an excuse for his behavior. "Suspect you of borrowing something without my consent."

She barley moved. The girl remained rigid with her back against the wall and her arms now pinned at her sides, still looking up at him with eyes the size of saucers. He watched her slightly visible Adam's apple dip as she gulped, every muscle and tendon in her neck noticeable under the tense strain.

"Or-orders. I'm so sorry my Lord. I was just following orders, sir."

He was half surprised she spoke again, more so at the fact she was still standing. Her usual pallor had taken on one of the palest shades he had ever seen in a mortal. It was hard to hear her whispered apologize over the sound of her rapidly thudding heart - its frantic drumming pound reminded him of a little birds wings…The Count didn't want the girl to keel over in front of him so he forced his voice into a more gentle one, even though it was constantly cracking from the concealed distress.

"May I ask who's orders you were under? I have more than one steward." It was a stupid question, he knew Mercator had been the one to command her but if asking stupid, easy questions would keep her from dieing then he was all for it.

"M-Mercator Hosidus my Lord. I'm sorry, so sorry. I did not mean to anger or upset…I didn't know I was prohibited. I swear I truly did not."

His fingers drummed idly on the book as he considered the girl before him. Her head was bowed toward the floor looking like a sad, shiny, red-copper coin, and her tiny pale hands were wringing together from nervousness. With a mental groan he felt the familiar pang of sympathy creep up into his chest, he didn't mean to scare her.

"No need to swear, I believe you." He said sternly but was unable to completely stop the apologetic look from crossing his _every _feature.

She looked up slowly with her brow slightly creased. "Y-you do?" Still sheepish, but now she at least seemed pleasantly surprised - if not skeptical. It made him inwardly smile to see the sudden - but masked - eagerness in her face. He secretly missed such human contact; to see a natural expression, not false forced ones from members of staff or extortionists, even if this sincerity was from a tentative naive youth like the one before him it was well liked. Still, he was a bit surprised to find himself not minding her bright curious eyes today…it must have been his sympathy. Trust seemed to be an important thing to the girl, she had yet to fib and always seemed to beam once reliance was anywhere in the conversation.

"Of course. You have no reason to lie to me and I can plainly tell that you are not." As fast as that little reserve she had gone, it came back ten fold. Her back stiffened and her already swollen bottom lip returned in between her teeth. It was not unlikely that she felt uncomfortable knowing that he was listening to her every breath and heart beat looking for a lie.

"Oh."

"But regardless," He began quickly, noticing the obvious disappointment in the girls face; she knew that it wasn't really her word he was relying on but her body's physical reaction. "I would have trusted your word anyway. You have yet to try and fool me, you don't seem the type to want to either."

She quickly shook her head "No sir, never would I want to. I would never even attempt to."

He nodded his approval and forced a smile, though it took little effort. "Why not? Many try to mislead me daily."

Abigale Lynn looked around anxiously and strained another response. "I have no desire to lie to you my Lord, or anyone. It, its…I would get caught up in my own lies sir. I've learned its better to be honest. Easier I mean."

"That is good to go by and the Gods shall smile upon you for it." He inwardly scowled at his own words. _Gods_. "I take it you were once a chapel going girl even if times were…hard for you?"

Her hands began to wring again with renewed vigor. "N-no sir. I never went to any service or belonged to any chapel. I don't believe sir. I'm sorry."

The Count couldn't help but laugh. "Why apologize?" He asked while still chuckling lightly at the now confused look on her face. "Its something we both have in common. You would assume that the Gods would intervene more often if they existed. Perhaps they could have stopped me from wrongly accusing you yet again."

The corners of her mouth tilted upward slightly in a mere ghost of a smile. When he acted familiar with her she seemed more at ease, the more he said the more relaxed she became. "I should think not sir. If they existed I-I would think that they would help those who were loyal to them. People who had always been their faithful worshipers would not fall ill, innocents would not be punished…"

She faded off in her thoughts, her eyes gleaming as if she were in deep contemplation; staring at an unsolvable puzzle. He inclined his head and watched her - almost seeing the gears in her mind being put into motion.

Maybe that's why she was quiet, she was just a thinker. But hopefully not a _slow _thinker.

It was interesting to hear his own views from the lips of another who had been brought up on nothing but prophecies and laws of the Nine. During the time of the Nerevarine many Imperials made hourly chapel runs to insure that no ill fortune would make its way to Cyrodiil. This girl was indeed a _girl_ so surely since birth she heard the cries of fanatics and the ranting of local heretics. It was hard to find another who had built up an immunity to such _garbage_ and saw through to the facts.

However his attention was brought back to his book on the thoughts of cruel punishment towards the faithful.

"I expect to see you back here tonight." He said, snapping her back into the present. "Come to me first before you start your evening."

Abigale Lynn took a small step away from the wall and bowed, visibly looser, and turned gracefully to go down the hall. He smiled again as he watched her go, he usually only saw such lithe movements when she didn't know he was present. Maybe he was making more progress already after all.

XXXX

Janus went back to his room and closed the door tightly. He was in absurdly higher spirits then he was when he had first entered the manor.

Relief. No harm done to his wife's possession of course - why else?

He walked into the middle of the room with the book out before him. Carefully he traced the golden lettering on the cover with his fingertips and double checked every small repair made. He had seen better craftsmanship but the book was in one peace despite its purchase being over fifty three years ago.

With a narrowed gaze he brought the book closer to his face and tried to make out the great white stork that he once laughed at - to him the bird always looked cockeyed. But as he brought it nearer he picked up a strange, however familiar scent. At first he wrinkled his nose and thrust the book out at arms length. He didn't have to breath to pick up an odor, things just seemed to wander up his nose as they pleased. At first he believed it to be some awful burnt leather and glue smell; the book always reeked horribly once it was newly repaired.

He was surprised though to find that it was a sweet, sharp, but clean smell; feminine and warm, still clinging to the book. A few times as he walked his halls he found a strange aroma: it was fresh like soap, soft and hard to trace, almost discreet but thick when near its source, heavy and potent - identical to that of musk but hardly as overbearing.

It was a nice smell, something one should find bottled on a store shelf

It was immediately recognizable, just something he had overlooked and didn't think of around his maid. He didn't go off sniffing any company but sometimes it was unavoidable, the people of Cyrodiil needed to bathe more often. At least he knew Abigale Lynn was clean.

Usually he would get annoyed with other peoples odor lingering on his things, but this was comforting and feminine. It was highly tolerable. It was also nice to have something girly on his wife's old things, it brought back some long-gone normalcy which he dearly missed.

* * *

_Authors Notes: Okay where to start. I for one found Mercator's speech amusing in the game, he emphasizes almost every word XD I just blew it out of proportions. And no, Abigale Lynn didn't run away from some arranged marriage thingy lol and Rona's chamber doesn't actually stink XD its just what Hassildor thinks because he hates the room, he makes it out to be worse then what it actually is, on that note he's is going to need a lot more 'him' time (like this chapter) if this story is going to flow smoothly, I hope no one minds the constant random switching point-of-views. Grammar…? I actually took the time to re-read it once so I hope its not too bad. (personally I think my lit teacher would hit me if we were related XDXD) But I am trying, know that I don't ignore reviews. Speaking of which… if its good, bad, or ugly I would like to know :D And I forgive you if you want to throttle me with one of my semicolons, lol I know I use them wrong nine times out of ten… And one more thing…(gets hit by angry readers keyboard) Hassildor is not lovestruck. I go for realism, (well I attempt to X3) he's not going to fall in love randomly. I'm rambling about the longwinded descriptions: like smells and facial expressions, just things he likes to figure out and finds enjoyable. I'll leave you now, but not for long :D _


	12. The First Revelation

_Authors notes: The action never stops! 8D The title? You'll have to find it. The story is about Abigale and Hassildor, they both have revelations. The big important ones get special titles. But in response to the smut reviews…you seem to be under the impression that Abigale and Hassildor will become a couple. This could be wrong, we're not even halfway into the story yet (not even close). I could resurrect Uriel Septim and make Abigale fall for him you know?! Eww!…XD but this is the beauty of fan fiction. Suspect the unexpected. I know what I'm going to do in this story, but I want to surprise YOU. What needs to be taken into consideration is that Hassildor really loved his wife. He's not going to change that overnight just because he's near a girl. So I'm sorry to disappoint you (I think :3), but that's not happening for a while…_

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter ten: The First Revelation

I am greatly impressionable. I am undeniably foolish; preeminently senseless. I am an embarrassment to women everywhere and I should be ashamed to call myself an equitable lady, but I am not. All this may be true but I am in no way abashed for my actions, whether they be in the past, present, or near future. I cannot stop myself from behaving the way I do, and although I look daft when acting on my impulses and assuming the worst out of everyone I fear that nothing can be done. It is the way I have subconsciously trained myself: to be wary of all eyes and hands, to expect what I dread. It is the way of me.

And although I will repeat myself and stand tall with my pride everyone secretly gets embarrassed, and I am no exception. I wont ever utter a word of my shame but inevitably it is there, I just conceal it under this false façade. Even if I may be shy, quiet, and nervous I hold dear what little pride a 'once thief' could have. Therefore silent I shall be so no one will ever expect an answer when verbally questioning my honor.

But there is no greater humiliation then which I had just faced, so I have no qualms about contradicting myself this time. I could easily shed tears over such degradation. It was silly of me to think my first encounter with a vampire was bad, it may have been scary but my thoughts about him wanting to hurt me weren't far off that first night. Now it was once more just my fears getting the better of me. All the Count wanted was his book back and I had readied myself for the worst, for death even.

Silly little Hummingbird for jumping to conclusions, I know.

Horrible simply _horrible_ the way I acted. I was seconds away from dropping to the floor again to beg forgiveness when he barley seemed troubled at all. Of course he was upset at first knowing _I _was the one to handle something of his, but once he saw that all was well he was fine, kind even, and still I was overdramatic - which is highly unlike me despite what you may have seen.

I tried my best to overcome my own instincts and I was happily surprised to find that I gradually loosened, but all the same it was a constant effort. Had the Count not been distracting me with meaningless questions I would have never stepped from the door; I would have ran from it.

Another thing he did was talk to me again; more irrelevant conversation. He must know I want to get away yet he still bothers me. Perhaps he does it for fun, like a game to slowly torment me. If so then Mr. Hassildor has a very bad sense of humor. I sincerely hope its not for his amusement, but I honestly don't think it is either. He's supposed to be a stingy, disgruntled, full-blooded Imperial, not some open conversationalist.

I may never understand the ways of men. What do I do that is so fascinating? Is it my quirks or reserve, maybe its my face? I must look so bare and blank to them they probably think I'm simple and easy. Whatever the case or their reason I wish it would stop. I'm terribly afraid the Count is one like them, he has yet to make an attempt for anything strange and I have never even caught him looking at me in _that _discrete manner, but why else would he be nice to me? I have never met anyone who was just nice to me unless they were required to be or they wanted something of me.

That could be it though. He does want things from me and he requires my presence daily. I'm just being unreasonable, he only wants a good relationship in order to keep me a good maid.

See now there's a reason for everything, no need for me to fret. Vampire or not, man or not, alive or not I can trust him. After all he has yet to imply otherwise.

XXXX

Janus watched the pendulum of the clock swing back and forth, the effect it had on him was almost hypnotic. He didn't like clocks, he didn't like time in general, surprisingly though the clock didn't bother him today - at least not as much as it usually did. No, today he was anticipating the hourly change. It was still early by his standards, the sun had finally begun to set and the peoples of his province would all be in bed soon. For that he was grateful; when the people of Skingrad slept he could roam.

Like a dog he needed a walk. It would be lonely and quiet - it always was - but he still desperately needed to feel cool air. The month of Heartfire wasn't a personal favorite, he preferred the warmer months, but he would take any whether that was offered at the moment.

His head was dense with thoughts today. He could usually maintain a good balance and remained level-headed for the most part. But after receiving another letter from the Elder Council - which still remained sealed - and all the documents he asked for from Anvil he wasn't sure he could. It was better not to think about it, he didn't want to ruin his temporary optimism.

Yes thankfully his good mood had not wavered. The Count was still in high spirits and had been since his maid had left.

He smiled at the thought of her. She was a sweet little thing even if timid. It was hard to believe such an innocence was once nothing more than a grimy thief sobbing on his _partially _clean floors.

With a smirk he turned to look at his desk, in one of the drawers he still had her gauntlets. The girl never even knew he spelled them off her and she had yet to ask for them back. It was almost comical; those tiny gauntlets and big fearful eyes were the main keys to sparing her. The Count vividly remembered walking to where he had cast them aside and picking one up in distain, with every intent on throwing it into the garbage. But it fit so snuggly in his hand, the tips of the glove had barley reached his knuckles. As a man with big hands it was not uncommon, but his butlers words echoed in his head and the warmth still clinging to the glove was seeping into his palm, all the sensations made him frown.

'_She is but a child…'_

He could still see her gaunt dirty face and the way her tears left clean trails along her cheeks. Poor thing. He couldn't help but to take pity on her. It must have taken some willpower for her to talk to him during her interrogation.

Even now though it was hard for him to understand why her quirks remained. She was young, weren't the young supposed to be free spirited? Sure she was shy, and might still be embarrassed for having given such a soppy display on their first meeting, but couldn't she see past all that now? He did - the girl was far too cautious to attempt to pull a fast one. He made no mention of their _introduction _for her sake, but she had come a long way from being a weeping girl in irons.

She had elegance now, he saw it grow each day. Grace too, of course the agility of a thief. But it was something about all her features that puzzled him. He had been watching her for sometime - it was impossible to do otherwise - and there was something he just couldn't place about her that made him smile.

Possibly her shyness, he was used to seeing fear but not genuinely timid people, he thought it quite the paradox for a little, shy, bandit to wander her way into his midst. She was silly to watch _and _she was annoying to watch, but everything she did had his attention. The way she looked up at him only hours ago was permanently burned into his memory: that 'almost' nervous smile, curious green-blue eyes and long dark lashes, her milky-white skin and blushing cheeks, that beautiful curve of her neck as she turned her head to walk down the corridor. She was pretty, she was young… and he needed some fresh air.

xxxx

I sat quietly by myself at an unoccupied table in the maids quarters. Today was one of those rare days when most of the servants go home to their families and friends. Even Rheena and Tualga had gone. Its times like this when I feel that inevitable grip of loneliness. Its protocol for them to leave just as its mandatory for me to be alone. I repress my occasional want for company though and curb it with thought. I like to think, and I do it best when no one is around to distract me or watch my expressions, sometimes the want to laugh or frown at seemingly nothing is inevitable.

But my thoughts were interrupted as I heard someone winding down the stone steps. I sighed discreetly as I felt those all too familiar eyes on my back. Carefully I turned in my chair and looked around me, "Good late afternoon Stewardess." I said in a tone as happy and high as I could hope to make it.

Hal-Liurz waved my greeting away with her scaly hand. "You have not gone to bed yet today. Are you on some type of sleep strike? Or do you enjoy just sitting alone at an empty table?"

I harshly bit my lip and looked back to the vacant room and table. Why is it so hard to understand? Sometimes I _do _just like to sit alone and collect my thoughts. My mind has a tendency to wanders far and I've found the best way to keep up with it is to relax and think about my day. This is something I have done ever since I was small, but then I had a journal and wrote all my thoughts down in it. I miss having one, I'm lost in my mind without it. I so long for a diary. "No, I was only thinking miss."

She crossed her arms. "What about?"

Shifting uncomfortably in the chair I licked my now chapped lips. Its one of the most indecent questions to ask someone in my opinion. Especially when asked in such a tone. Peoples thoughts are their own, we should not be questioned about such private things, so I always answer this question evasively. "Things."

"What kind of things?" She pressed, walking around the table so I would be forced to face her. "Would these '_things_'have anything to do with the Count?"

Again I bit my lip and cast my gaze to the floor. I suppose most of my thoughts have had the Count in them recently. He was nice to me and that's very hard to understand when the sentiment is from the opposite sex. I appreciate his kindness, but it leaves me more troubled than his anger would.

The Stewardess snorted. "Well ironically enough your silent's speaks for itself." She pulled out the chair in front of me and took as seat. "He didn't yell too much did he? His tantrums can get ugly when he has a mind to make them so."

I shook my head. "No miss, he…" I trailed off, my brows knitting together. "Stewardess, how did you know he was angry?"

"I am the one who told him you had is book. I assure you I had no intent of getting you into any trouble." She shrugged, a _very _Argonian gesture. "I just didn't expect him to get so fired up about it though." Although her voice was flat and mainly emotionless, I believed her. The Stewardess is not one for affectionate shows either at any rate…

"He didn't through things did he? I need to know ahead of time. Ordering his kind of furniture can lead to a rigorous task and quite the amount of paperwork for me."

I blinked. "_Throw_?" For a moment I wasn't sure how to answer her, I thought she was just being sarcastic but the look on her face said otherwise. "No, he wasn't very mad for long." I briefly reflected his actions in my memory. I could plainly see his face as it was now etched in my psyche: intense and unwavering at first, then for a longer amount of time, small smiles. "He was nice."

"Nice?" She repeated, her voice had become strangely hoarse. I nervously began to prod at the table. She didn't believe me and I didn't know why. How hard can it be to imagine the Count being nice? How mad was he when she told him that I was handling his things, and - more to the point - how does he usually react around his staff members when he's in a bad mood?

"W-well," I quickly changed tact. "He didn't yell, and his anger towards me was very brief." I was trying my best to stress the shortness of his actions. I wanted her to know that he was not mad at me still, but at the same time I didn't want to tell her anything about our meetings. For me it feels private. Everyone makes the Count out to be some crazed vampire but I have yet to see it. I don't want to prattle on about his benevolence towards me, especially if he does not show kindness to other people often, it feels rude to do so. I may not yet grasp his reasoning but I do appreciate the gentleness he seems to keep for me.

"I suppose that's not too unusual then, he is prone to mood swings." She quipped, but her gaze on me was more scrutinizing than normal.

To divert my attention on something else I began to massage my forearm. That scar has been acting up lately, it always does during the colder months.

"At least you didn't get a book flung at you." The Stewardess pointed out, as if in attempts to make me feel better…she failed miserably. I stared at her wide-eyed. "Not that he would actually hit you," she continued. "He could, but he would intentionally narrowly miss."

XXXX

As expected his walk was long and lonely, but it had served its purpose.

He now held the banister that connected to the fencing of the courtyard deck. Simply standing there, thinking about nothing and everything.

He walked through town this evening and saw the many faces of his people. Sadly the only people who tended to be up at night were mostly drunks, thieves and harlots. But for the most part he was proud of his province. Financially it was the best county there was, but one didn't have to be the Count to know that…even the local whores looked expensive…

Yet he was aghast, completely bewildered. Out of all those faces and all those people not one had him the slightest bit interested; none were appealing in any sense. Truth be told he was looking for a meal tonight, but they all just seemed so bland to him. He was a picky eater, and wouldn't dare to harm anyone who didn't deserve it. It wasn't like he did this often. On the contrary he rarely fed upon the living and only went after anyone causing trouble...which limited his options immensely. There weren't many bandits in his town at any rate, it only takes one encounter with a vampire to make them flee.

He liked his province but was rather disappointed with its civilians. None of the people had that _thing _he liked, that unexplainable _thing _they all lacked. A bandit would not sate him, a mugger would not sate him, and a wench with too much rouge definitely would _not _sate him. No, he wanted something sweet, he _needed _something sweet, and clean and hapless - enough to stumble into him at least. But there was no one.

His head dropped and he stared down at the floor boards for a minute or two. The life of a vampiric aristocrat was a difficult one indeed. More so when said Count couldn't even have what he really wanted for dinner. Tonight he was going to have another tall glass of bottled Khajiit…

It wasn't that bad, once he picked the hairs out.

xxxx

I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in annoyance and pain, all revolving around my throbbing arm.

There are only three things that I hate in the world: rain, the month of Heartfire, and my own naivety.

The funny thing about all that is how they are all connected. One night in Heartfire when I lived on the streets it was raining, and that same night a seemingly harmless Dunmer man came and offered me a place to sleep. Because of my own naivety I took him up on his offer. I was just about sixteen at the time, and this was my first winter on the streets. He had seemed so nice, even now I have trouble understanding why he did what he did.

I will never tell a soul what went on within his house. Its shameful.

He didn't…you know, do _that_, but he tried and now I have this mark on my arm to prove it.

Normal people have morals to there stories, I get scars for mine. But that's just another thing I am lucky for, I was trapped in his home for days and only got marred when I fled. I think the mental scaring is a bit more deep than the mark though. I flinch every time I hear someone say 'sera'.

Which leads me to a very important question: why is it always love that drives one mad? I'm glad I don't know what it is or ever be able to feel it…

I probably wont get much sleep tonight. I don't like thinking about him, I can still here his voice as plane as day, _"I will keep you sera. You and I are going to fall in love." _

xxxx

I rubbed my eyes and reluctantly stumbled from bed. I was still alone and once again suffered through a restless night. Lying in bed when you cannot sleep is torture all its own, but when its pain or memories that's keeping you awake than its worse.

Sleepless nights are something that I am used to, but not something I enjoy tolerating. Especially not when I am to meet the Count before I start my routine. I wonder what he wants me to do. I suppose it cant be anything too difficult if he's having me handle it first, I don't think he would let anything get in the way of my work.

I think he likes the way I clean - he often watches me do it - but its not something that can be easily overlooked. I think I make so much noise when I clean, I wince every time I place something down too hard, and I do my best to stay out of his sight too. My odd ways could be distracting him and I wouldn't want to tear him away from a good book just because I like to double check on everything and make sure its put in its proper place.

With another yawn I proceeded to light a candle and dress. Its strange to be all alone in the castle; here with only the Count and another handful of staff whom I don't see. It feels good to know that I'm not being watched. I can actually take the time to get dressed instead of ripping clothes off and throwing new ones on.

I like Rheena and Tualga and never before did I think I was modest around the same sex, but lately I'm a bit more self conscious. Perhaps its because I am getting to know my own body a bit more. I used to curse what little curves the fifteen-year old me had. Now I don't mind them as much. Its very obvious that I am no longer a teen; I have the pronounced feminine curves of my mother. But its not much of a bother anymore, at least I don't have to tie my chest down and hide myself under many articles of clothing. Its nice to not have to cover my face in dirt and pretend to be a boy. Maybe I like my body now even if it looks like someone had a go at me with a hot-poker.

Someday I hope my scars can fade away, or at least stop preventing me from sleeping.

But for goodness sake, I wish I had some shears. My hair is terribly long now and it reaches all the way down my lower back. More importantly its getting in the way of everything I do. I even had to add another several minutes to my bathing time just to make sure its rinsed all the way through.

XXXX

The Count craned his neck and refrained himself from standing on his toes. He could barley see his old dusty weaponry now, but he knew it was there, somewhere on the top highest shelf. It had been years since he last thought about his old swords and shield, and he wasn't entirely sure why he decided to look for them again in the first place. Such keepsakes barley made themselves known to him now and he often forgot they were even there. It was a rather random thought that struck him in boredom; Janus suddenly wanted to see his old things.

This occurrence was unusual for him, he tried his best to hide any remnants of his previous life. Actually touching the old relics always seemed to make him sick, so it wasn't hard to understand his confusion. He had no other excuse for his sudden motives so he settled with the typical explanation to such a nostalgic feeling: he was getting old.

The idea made him wince. He didn't like to think about it for obvious reasons, but like it or not ninety-three years was quite over the hill and back down its slope.

Indeed he dreaded the day he hit that century mark. Anyone in his situation would loath said day as well. To have walked on Nirn for a hundred years, alone and diseased, without anyone with a pulse whom he could truly call 'friend'. Perhaps that was why he impulsively wanted to cling to his personal effects from life; it was all he had left.

And so he looked for old mementos; his prized possessions of a time when he was young, in love and surrounded by loyal friends and family.

In retrospect it could be thought of as funny. Time has a strange way of sneaking up on you, and you'll never know where you will be in the next ten years. Of course he could guess - but he would probably still be alone after all - so there was really no excitement in guessing for him. Janus tried his best not to ponder the future or reminisce on his youth, it did more bad than good. He settled with just being, not living or dieing or having anything to live for or care about other than his wife who left him fifty-three years ago.

Sleeping, he proposed, was better than his affection.

He could call it self-pity and try to ignore it - as he often did - but sometimes it became to hard to pay such an idea little mind. He was not gifted with ignorance so every once in awhile he felt that inevitable loss of impassivity. Stoicism could only keep him complacent for so long.

Finally his gaze dropped to the floor in defeat. He hated letting his thoughts wander, it always left him distressed. His ways, his _life _was hackneyed and sickening if one delved deep enough into his conscience. How he could still look in the mirror everyday he didn't know. Something must have been terribly wrong with him as it made Rona leave. She would rather face unholy nightmares than stand by him and fight this blood curse. Sad to know that his love wasn't enough to make her stay, what a painful blow to a man's once proud ego. It ultimately shattered not only his self-esteem and most emotions but his own self-image also.

Here he was, the Count of Skingrad: one of the richest men of Cyrodiil, the most powerful Count, ruler of the most influential province, and dead, lonely man who's wife would rather die than face him, and who's staff feared his teeth more than his rule.

_What a sad life to lead when walking with eternity. _

xxxx

He sounded miserable; his voice held nothing to it, not even the usual firmness that I have become accustomed to. It could have been his heavy door that possibly altered his voice and made him sound so distraught, and I had half hoped that was the case too, but sadly it was not.

As I entered the room I tried to look at him without giving myself away. I know that simply looking at a person wont tell you why their upset, but you can usually see to what extent their current depression is at. At first I saw nothing different in his face, but that was mainly because my glances were so quick that he looked like a blur of colors. I didn't want him to see me trying to study him; I know he doesn't like that. Even though he looked himself I could almost feel something amiss. I didn't want to upset him further so I maintained my little curiosity and kept my eyes on the floor.

It wasn't hard to do, I never really look people in the eye especially when I talk to them. Just thinking about it makes me feel uneasy.

The Stewardess was right though, the Count is certainly prone to mood-swings. I suppose I would be to if I was always isolated and always…hungry. He has every right to be happy one moment then angry the next, it must be hard to keep himself so…so docile all the time when his instincts tell him to do the opposite.

"You wanted to see me sir?" I asked nervously after a few moments of silence. Perhaps he changed his mind and didn't want me near him at the moment. I too like to be alone when I'm upset, I think I heal faster that way.

" I did." I think I may be right, he said 'did' not 'do'. "Come here." I obediently walked over, still keeping my eyes to the floor.

He was so nice to me earlier and even though he is upset I think he may still be nice to me now, so long as I do as I am told. I wanted to show him my appreciation somehow, but I cant think of a way to say 'thank you' to him. If there was a method of some sort that I could do to show my gratitude than I would do it. Sadly though I don't know sign language, and I'd rather not touch him.

Not that there's anything wrong with him but he just strikes me as a man who wouldn't want to be touched by lesser people. So taking his hand in gratefulness is definitely out of the question, but it was common practice in Anvil even towards commoners and nobles, and I miss it.

Once I stood next to him he held out his hand. At first I was confused and though that he had read my mind and wanted me to take it, or give him something, but I soon felt a strange prickle run down my back and watched as his hand was quickly immersed in light. It was the Breton in me, I could always feel magic being conjured and cast. I've always been very sensitive to magic and I have been told I would have made a great mage…I wish I learned to cast spells.

It was a fascinating little ball of light. He held it in his hand as any wizard would do with a Mage Light, but it was so bright I had worries it would hurt him. Instinctively I squinted at it, it had been awhile since I was exposed to such a glow and I had to stop myself from taking a few steps back and shielding my eyes. He however barley seemed effected by it. My eyes slowly adjusted but I had to constantly blink back tears. His magical skill must be great, I have seen this spell before but most of the time its just rays of light from the casters body, he held the light neatly like a melon sized orb.

I was captivated by it like a moth to the flame. I wondered what it felt like in his hand. I couldn't feel any heat from it, and it almost certainly had no mass whatsoever. It was probably like holding your hand outstretched, you have a palm full of air and you don't even know it.

"Can you see up there?" he asked quietly as he turned to me. I looked up at him first to see what he was gesturing to when I noticed how illuminated his face was. Besides the eyes one could barley tell he was a vampire - so long as he kept him mouth closed. I could see different features of his face in this light that dull fires do not show. I've always liked faces and hands on people, which is why I find it so intriguing. He has laughter lines on either side of his face, they are little but still plan to see, and very oval shaped eyes. He has a funny nose too; long tear-drop shape with rounded nares.

Once I realized I was staring again I sharply turned my head away and preyed he didn't notice. I bit my lip and finally nodded, looking upward at what he was pointing to.

"What I want you to do first today is see to my old weaponry. I want to see it shine again." I nodded once more and watched his light slowly disappear out of the corner of my eye. "There is no need to rush," He continued. "But I want it done within the hour. You have other things to do besides this."

I did not want to correct him because technically that is rushing. My father used to be in the guard and I would wipe down his armor and equipment all the time. My father never asked me to do it, but I tried my best to make him happy…he had so much to put up with. I wonder if him and my mother are still…Never mind, they are not my parents anymore; I abandoned them.

The Count turned and began to walk away, leaving me to stare up at the bookshelf foolishly. I don't know how he expects me to get up there, he always seems to want to thrust me up a bookshelf or dangle on a chandelier. Well I cannot do it, if he wants this done within the hour than he had better provide me some type of help. I'll admit it's a bit frustrating; I'm always told to jump, and although I shall ask every time, 'how high?' and not quip at this, people should at least be nice enough to make sure the leap is within my reach. I'm a lady, not a miracle, I have limits.

"I…" I tried to straighten up a bit, I cant look very demanding if I'm off cowering by a shelf. "I'll need to get them down, my Lord."

He turned - almost lazily - toward me, with that ever apathetic expression. "Obviously."

My straightened posture faltered a bit at his statement. Just one little word from his mouth and I'm already biting my lip again. He can make me feel so foolish with _one word_.

But I don't think the workings of his mind is as complex as I once thought it would be. If it was he certainly would have seen that I have no means for these silly things he asks me to do. He's far to expectant, I cant help but to be slightly irked by it. I know he is usually nice to me and is just in a bad mood right now but must he strive to make me look stupid? Does it make him feel better? Of course he has every right to do with me as he pleases, but I do have feelings.

Maybe its just me and I have just become too soft and extremely sensitive. He didn't insult me after all, he only said 'Obviously'.

I looked to the shelf again to hide the _obvious _degradation on my face. "How?" I asked softly, still trying to keep myself as strong willed and spoken. I know it sounds silly but I feel embarrassed and cant help it. It would be far more easier to tear up and ask him through sniffles to get his armor down for me than it is to stand up and ask for it politely. I believe that shows how little tolerance I have toward conversation. The Count is partial to my weeping, maybe he will help me again this time if I start to cry.

"How?" He repeated - he does that often too, as if I ask some unfathomably stupid question. "Spell it down girl, you are of Breton blood."

My cheeks burned further and I looked down to my shoes again. The humiliation I must go through all because I never finished any schooling, magical or otherwise. How am I supposed to tell one of the greatest users of magic I have ever known that I: a half Breton, never learned to even cast the simplest restoration spell correctly? Its impossible for such a sentence to even form in my mouth, how am I to explain such a dishonor to my employer?

"I cant." As if he knew I was going to say that he walked back over to me. I hope he doesn't think I'm disobeying him. But maybe he knew I was telling the truth. He could hear lies, he should know then that I am willing, just not capable.

"Never learned telekinesis…" The Count pondered quietly. "I suppose that's understandable. Its not a very common spell, and is probably useless to girl such as yourself." He said pointedly. "You strike me as a 'do it yourself' type of person."

I gave a little nod, deciding it was best not to verbally answer. I don't know if I am what he says or not. I don't like laziness, but I think it would be nice to simply beckon a glass of water to come to you rather than having to fetch it yourself.

"What about levitation?" He inquired again - quite randomly. If I had a mind to ask questions my first one would be: 'why sir must you make me speak?'

"No, my Lord." He made a little face, like taking a sip of too bitter tea, and turned away to summon the items from the top shelf. I didn't like that expression, it was different. Did I say something wrong with just three tiny words? Did my tone have an unlikable sharpness to it? Maybe he somehow learned that I knew no magic and had no skills. Is that even possible? I hope to whatever deity there is that it isn't.

I don't want to look worse than what I already do. In his eyes I must still be a thief, I don't want him to think I'm slow too.

"Here. Just do this for now." He held out a long silver sword. It might have been shiny too if it wasn't coated with dust and dirt. "Seeing as your hesitance has made time pass so quickly this is all you will do today."

The Count held it out to me carefully and I took it with the same caution. I forgot how heavy weapons were. No sooner had the sword left his hands did I hunch over to keep from dropping it, my knees already quaked at the weight. I looked up at him and wondered how he just held it a moment ago in one hand, treating it as if it were as light as a quill. He must be strong, or was still secretly using a spell to show off for some reason.

"I shall leave you to it then." He said simply, just as another important item for a task such as this came into my head.

"W-what about polish? I cannot get it to shine without it. Waters not good to…"

I stopped talking as he quirked his brow and inclined his head to the side ever so slightly. "Is this some obvious care of weapons knowledge or are you speaking from experience?" I bit my lip and again shifted, but not from discomfort, the weight the sword was almost unbearable. Sadly I have never been a strong girl, just a good problem solver. "Do you know what your doing?" He asked again more gently, probably mistaking my pained face for embarrassment. Surprising as it may be I'm not embarrassed at the moment, just very uncomfortable.

"Yes sir." I answered quickly. "I did it for my father sir, when I was young...s." I had almost said 'sir' again. At least I'm trying, I may babble foolishly but I am trying.

He gave a wiry smile. "_When _you were young? How old are you now?"

I probably should have seen this coming. People and their ages, I do not understand sensitivity to a fact like that. We all grow older so why does everyone dread or hate it? Then again I'm being a hypocrite; I despise being young, he probably feels the same towards his age though. He is…how old after all? I believe he said a long time ago that he had seventy years on me - more or less I am not sure. "I am twenty my Lord. I shall be twenty-one in Frostfall."

He nodded. "Oh yes. You are positively ancient indeed." The satirical comment was almost funny. I wanted to laugh but bit my tongue hard instead. I think his good mood may be coming back to him. Maybe. He still seems irritable. He was probably just lonely. Poor Count Hassildor, I'll let him poke fun at me if it makes him feel better.

He glanced over his shoulder to his paper-littered desk and sighed when turning back to me. "Little perfectionist, you will have to make due with what you have for now. Take a seat and get to it, wont you?"

"Where do I sit?" I asked cautiously, looking around to the Counts fine furniture. I did not want to ruin any of his chairs or sofas, what's more; I didn't want to have to fix any mess I made on them.

The Count took a brief look around the room and then tilted his head to the floor. "Seeing as you are about to crumple with age before me, I think the floor will suite you just fine." At the command I quickly dropped to the carpet, carefully maneuvering the sword away from me as I did so. I think I'm an efficient worker, but I also think I've questioned him enough today and I don't want to push my luck.

Without another word he went to his desk and I set out to do what I do best, which is thinking and cleaning.

XXXX

Janus rifled through the papers on his desk, successfully ignoring the girl on the floor who had her back facing him. He had become too absorbed in his work, and her - whatever he could find on her - documented history. The Count had sent a letter to Anvils 'widowed' Countess and asked for a _small _favor. Anvil had always been a well organized province, and he had been good friends with the recently missing Count Corvus Umbranox's father - who had long since passed. Documents on the citizens of any state were usually passed along throughout Cyrodiil for criminal records and such, the Count had only asked for a _tiny _list of names beginning with the letter A.

He would openly admit he was curious about Abigale Lynn, but his research wasn't just out of pure curiosity. He liked a back round check on all his workers, and what he heard in gossip contradicted what she had told him. When he spoke with some of his trusted guard most recalled seeing a little red-headed beggar wandering Skingrad several months ago. Some even remembered her in shockingly distinct detail.

Apparently Abigale Lynn was famous for getting caught stealing grapes at the local vineyards, and could often be found staring in windows of the pastry shop. One guard even mentioned seeing her crawling from another citizens smashed-in basement. The man didn't slap her in irons, he admitted that he pretended not to notice the girl. It had been snowing that day and his shift had just ended, no one wants to chase a thief in cold, wet, boots. But _she _had said she had come from Anvil, so Janus was left to believe she had departed from there recently. He soon found out how wrong he was.

Lady Umbranox had sent him what he asked, which was any document listing women with the initials A.L who had departed from Anvil in recent years. There were many more men with those initials, so it _should _have been relatively easy to find.

But after several stacks of papers, going back three years, the Count had to wonder if Abigale Lynn just fell from the sky. Flipping though more paper and going back more years he was starting to get irritated. It was a bit more enjoyable than his usual homework but it was still work, and he wanted to know about the girl who he let live with him _now_. She wasn't in the least bit dangerous, but she could be on the run from a cult like the Dark Brotherhood, and joined the Thieves Guild in hopes of protection. Gods knew he didn't need to have another uninvited visit by a chipper assassin in the dead of night.

After searching those records and finding nothing he decided to search through the obituaries just out of curiosity. Scrolling half way down the page he found those initials he was looking for.

_A. Lynn. R. Beincourt / Missing: 3E. 427. Frostfall. Put to rest. 3E. 429. Lastseed. _

That was enough to make a man blink…

Beincourt certainly was a Breton name, and the document clearly said it was her. 'R' had to be her middle name and Beincourt was her last. Janus clearly remembered her telling him she had no surname. Either she was a very good liar or a girl who had too many names to remember. He couldn't help from turning in his chair to look at the girl, who had unknowingly begun to hum, with an odd interest. Anyone in Anvil who had known her thought she was dead. That was something they both had in common; dead to the world. It was quite sad.

There was a small reward for anyone who found her, and a little list of people who attended her 'burial'. He wondered why the search had been called off so soon. The guard found no body, and all that was put in a casket was some of her personal effects. It struck him there as he sat that someone in Anvil could be missing their daughter terribly. Even though the reward was such a paltry sum _someone _in Anvil could wish to see her again and know that she was safe.

He could always write again to Lady Umbranox and have her inform Abigale Lynn's family that she was alive, but a criminal serving a life sentence. He would think about. It could bring some peace of mind to any relatives. Better alive then dead after all.

Janus was considering it, mulling it over in his mind as he stared down at the paper and listened to the girl's humming die down. His finger tapped absently against his temple as he measured the trouble one would have to go through to file all this paperwork out. It wouldn't be much at any rate, just a paper saying she was here, alive, but deprived of any visitation rights. Abigale Lynn wouldn't be dead to all but him. Perhaps he should ask her what she preferred.

He was about to finalize the decision when suddenly there came a little shaky breath from the back of the room where said maid sat. Only then did Janus take into account that the humming had stopped. And like a small gust of wind he felt a wave of panic, not from him but from the girl. The atmosphere of the room abruptly changed. It was…different somehow. Whatever this change was it now had the always apprehensive girl on the edge. Quite literally, he could smell fear on her. He was about to look up to see why she had become so frightened when a horrifyingly familiar smell drifted towards him. In an instant he went rigid in his seat. All his muscles quickly tensed and relaxed in such a swift motion that it made his mind hazy.

The smell that came to him was warm and sweet, and welcoming, and beckoning, and all the things Janus Hassildor did not want in his bedchamber. In the very far back corners of his mind he heard the primal call; the halleluiah for empty bodied and bellied vampires. This of course was too far back and receded in his thoughts. Abigale Lynn certainly was not a wounded animal in his mind, nor was she a hunger temptation.

No sir, she was just a very clumsy girl who was very fortunate that her Count had began to build up a tolerance and an innocent fascination to her. She should thank anything she believed in that he was a Hassildor and a master of self control, otherwise she would not be a happy girl at the moment.

He sighed but promptly stood and walked over to her. Janus made sure to take care with his steps, knowing all too well that bleeding in a room with a vampire is liable to cause some tension.

Unnecessary tension. Just because her skin smelt sweet and her blood had the strangest most alluring aroma didn't mean that he was going to pounce. He liked to think he was a bit more dignified.

xxxx

I was surprised at how shiny the sword became so quickly. Using nothing but I dry cloth I thought I might be stuck doing this for ages. Thankfully that was not the case, but I guess I wouldn't have minded either way because oh did this bring back memories.

I used to do this sitting at our little round kitchen table in Anvil with a bottle of polish to my left, and several gray cotton clothes to my right. I would have clear view of the sun going down from the little window in front of me, and it would cast strange orange and pink lights along the oak furnishings. I would vainly look at myself in the reflection of my fathers sword and admire how the orange hue of light made my hair fit my round face better. I would think about my day and listen to the children playing in their bedrooms despite me having told them it was time for bed. Usually I would start humming loudly, the sound always drifted into their rooms and inevitably put them to sleep.

But I was always faced with worries then too. I would think about my mother and wonder if my father could find the poor bumbling lady before the rest of the guard did. My grip on the sword would tighten as I dreaded having to clean up any liquor my mother couldn't hold down. Then there was always the worse fear of who my father was going to drag into the house with him. He would always bring his friends over to meet me, and ask me later if I would ever consider having them as a husband. My father desperately wanted to get rid of me.

Don't get me wrong, he loved me, but my father wanted me out of what he would call 'our hell hole'. He wanted me to live a happy life and move very far away. I wanted that too, but I never wanted to get married. I always dreamed of living in a small cottage by myself with a dog or cat to keep me company. I wanted to grow gardens and have some friends I would write letters to and visit during spring. The tiny one roomed home of my dreams would be made out of pearly-white stone, covered in ivy and roses, with a little porch in the front where I could sit and read until the sun fell from the sky.

I always liked that, especially white stone and very red roses. Its such a pretty color combination: ivory and scarlet, red on white, crimson over porcelain, just like I'm seeing now…?

I blanched, any color draining from my face, probably never to return either.

It was like being slapped; a sudden jolt of unwanted reality. In an instant I went from sitting at my kitchen table in Anvil, to my imaginary dream home, to an insufferably witless girl who cut herself and didn't even realize it.

Naturally I panicked at seeing my own blood, I did not feel myself get cut so I didn't know where it had come from. With a little effort I managed to calm down enough to gently put the Counts sword aside and examine my hands. I was bleeding so much I was afraid I punctured something important, but I didn't think there were any major veins in the palm of my hand so I tried to silence the fear. I cupped my hands; blood pooling in my wounded right hand, and made out the deep gash that cut through my life line. I must have gripped the sword too hard at some point, my fingertips have little cuts too.

Even though I was bleeding rather profusely I was more worried that I sullied the carpets, or worse, the Counts sword. Thankfully upon quick inspection I found no remnants of blood anywhere but on me. I sighed with relief but grimaced once I felt my hand give an overdue throb. I was about to get up and excuse myself when I heard the Counts chair creak nosily behind me.

Only then was I reminded of another very unwanted factor: vampire.

I don't know why people tend to forget such important things like that when their in a flurry of panic, but we do. When I heard him begin walking towards me I hastily wiped my now stinging hand of with my apron. It was to no avail, blood began dripping down my arm and soaked my tan sleeves, despite my best efforts to stop it. I whimpered as I painfully squeezed my own wrist to stop the blood flow. The desire to bang my head against the floor was there and rather prominent. How irresponsible could I be? Why cant I pay attention, why must I always think and get lost in thought?

This stupidity could cost me my life. I don't remember ever being so careless. If the Count decides I've caused him too much strife than I shall die. I deserve it don't I for being so foolish? I wont go willingly but I suppose its justice.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Doesn't he like me just a little, just enough to pardon me once more?

"_He is not an evil vampire. He's the kindest person I've have ever known outside of Anvil. He doesn't want my blood. He told me so himself when we first met. Be patient and be quiet, just do as he says and all will be well…All will be well. Please Gods all will be well."_

* * *

Authors Notes: I did NOT want to leave it here! XDXD This wasn't my fault, the chapter was about sixteen pages long! Sorry for the cliffhanger, I hate it too. Makes it a bit more dramatic ehh? Not really what I was going for but ohs well. Btw, I have grammar checker! 8D So I hope this was a bit better…If not…I'll do something. But what will happen in the next chapter?! Vote now! (yeah I'm tired.)

1. Hassildor throws a tantrum because she's bleeding all over the place - :C

2. Abigale pulls a Mary Sue and faints - *o*. Shockingly handsome glittering Hassildor to the rescue - 8D

3. Hassildor magically loses 53 years of self control just because he's around _her_ blood - :3

4. She grabs a band-aid… :D!


	13. Quick Fix

_Author's notes: Wow, I just wanted to say thank you all for the reviews. Seeing as this is not a generic retelling of the Dark Brotherhood quest line I never expected to get this many ^^ I'm always happy to get a review for each chapter to let me know how I'm doing, but I never thought I would get several reviews every post. So again thanks! _

_And those who voted for the Band-Aid, this is for you! XD (She gets the next best thing)_

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter eleven: Quick Fix

XXXX

Janus slowly walked over to his maid. He could hear her loud worried breaths and feel her little lungs strain each time she tried to silence them. He pitied her. She was absolutely terrified, so much so that she did not move. The Count did his best to quiet his steps, but at the same time, he tried to make his approach known and obvious. He didn't want the girl to think he was sneaking up on her.

Once he stood at her side she held her breath, her body froze as if his gaze on her back turned her to stone. It would not have surprised him at all if she had by chance immobilized herself permanently. She had, after all, almost turned herself into a mute.

As he looked down at her, he could not help but to wonder what she would do if all he did were stand there, unmoving and silent. Most people would feel a _bit _intimidated by his presence, more so if that person were losing a sufficient amount of blood at the time. So for a moment he was tempted to simply stand and watch her, to let her fall into a panic from his prolonged 'attack' and flee. Contrariwise, he was no monster and did not like to stimulate fear, nor did he want to make another run just so he could chase them. Although the _idea _to just observe her horror induced actions was tempting he quickly lost interest in it once she turned her head to face him.

"I'm sorry." He heard her say in a tiny breath.

In truth, he was not all himself and had barley registered her words. That sweet aroma was clouding the air around her and made him want to inhale deeply just to keep it inside his chest -- even if it made him feel a bit dizzy. But he had enough of his wits about him to wonder, humorlessly: how many people apologize when they have no reason to, and while losing critical amounts of blood no less? Only her it seems, only his foolish maid. Furthermore, how many people bleed in front of a vampire and apologize to him? It was unheard of. And while it made him want to role his eyes and shake his head it also made him want to give an apologetic frown, strictly out of compassion.

She had wrapped up her wounded hand in her now gleaming, crimson, apron. Holding her other shaking one over the bundle protectively, she looked back up and continued to mouth and stutter softly but incoherently. All the Count could do was try his best to not hear her thumping heart, to ignore the pleasant fragrance, and to just keep from taking in the sight before him, which was turning out to be a more difficult task than he had expected.

She whimpered, but whether it was directed at the discomfort from her wound or from the looming vampire was a up for speculation. Either way, he was staring hard again and needed to stop. His gaze shifted from the blood to her face and locked with her eyes, something he had intentionally done, it was hard to pry his stare away from those pretty orbs.

"Let me see." He commanded in the softest tone one could muster. Janus watched her bite her lip, dully noting how she never actually chewed on it but pinched it between her two front teeth. In turn, she eyed him as well. The girl watched him with a fathomless gaze as she slowly unwrapped her hand, dawdling the best she could; carefully removing each layer of tightly wound cloth. It was almost done in a taunting manner, and it took much composure on the Counts part to keep from ripping back her makeshift dressing just to see it himself.

Finally, after a painstakingly long time, she had removed the dressings and pulled them back enough so her palm was again visible. Gripping her shaky wrist, she held her hand out to him, but not very far. To get a better look Janus slightly crouched down beside her, trying to ignore the way she leaned away from him. He could not scold her for such an act because it was an instinct to protect herself. For a girl in such distress she was handling the situation rather nicely. Even if scared, she was ever compliant. However, that could have been the result of his unnaturally hard, authoritarian look. Either way he was grateful, he could not express how relieved he was that she was not putting up a fuss. He may have at first wanted to see her struggle or run earlier for his own…carnality, but now looking at the extent of the wound he was very happy indeed that he choose not to.

He actually had to hold back a wince at first glance of it, it looked painful, yet she was barley fidgeting -- no more than usual in any case. Nevertheless, it and she had quickly captivated Janus. She was so still, so well behaved, so good. And her blood was dark and rich, it pooled in her palm neatly. He licked his lips quickly as he struggled for words, barley able to pull his eyes away from her little hands. Crouching beside her and being so close to fresh blood may not have been the brightest of ideas, but he had no choice to.

In a feeble attempt to recollect himself, he stared again blankly at her face, hoping it would in someway help keep the blood out of the darker corners of his mind. But to his astonishment it did not, it made it worse. He had not realized how close they had become; their faces were little more than a foot apart, despite her leaning back as far as she could. At this proximity he could not keep from noticing her little button nose, rosebud shaped mouth, and _by far_ the most pretty, yet _pitiful _expression he had ever seen. But those eyes were certainly the kicker; big and glazed with confusion and fear.

Poor thing. Pretty thing…

He pulled back.

"It needs to be healed." He exhorted wearily as he got to his feet, "Come with me." As the Count turned his back to walk away, he listened carefully for her to stand, keeping his ears perked incase she became unsteady over blood loss. To his surprise though, he only heard her feet shuffle once. While she regained her bearings Janus swiped a cloth from his desk and handed it to her. She quickly rewrapped her hand much faster then she unwrapped it earlier...

Janus was making his way to the door, expecting her to follow, when he heard her call to him softly. Always softly, "S-sir?" For some reason her voice reminded him of water. Like a little silent stream: clean, pure and clear. Sometimes like a babbling brook when she stuttered or struggled. Irrespectively, he envisioned crystal, calm waters whenever she spoke. Such a pity she did not speak more often, he would consider having her read to him. Perhaps that could snap her back into more fluent speech. And even if it didn't he could still benefit off it. He found nothing wrong with exploiting her pretty voice; it would possibly do her some good in the end anyway.

At her plea he turned again to face her, and what a strange vision she was now. Having just torn himself away from his mental images of crystal waters, cooing doves, and gentle reading, it was a shocker to see her present state: now whiter than he, blood stained skirts, and sporting a bundled up hand, while shifting awkwardly from one foot to the next. But stranger still…blood or not, he found the girl in the middle of his room calling back to him quite becoming. "There is no need for healing." She insisted, "I don't…I'll be fine."

He shook his head, ignoring the imploring look on her face, and eased open the door. "No, you are hurt. Now come here."

To his utmost astonishment, for the first time she did not immediately follow. She shook her head and took a small, timid, step back like a cowering puppy. He watched her gulp, her lips press, and the way she nervously stroked her arm, his brow slowly furrowing all the while -- this though, she did not yet notice.

Whatever she was considering saying, she was giving it some thought. The Count had to wonder if she was afraid of healers. In his mind, she was wasting time, and her _precious _blood had now thoroughly stained her shirt. At that a feeling of possession overtook him, something keenly resembling ownership. Naturally he blamed the blood, but the idea of her getting hurt --especially by her own minute stubbornness -- would not even properly register in his head. It made him angry.

"I'll live." She answered cautiously. The girl was not being feisty, but almost testing the waters of severity. She wanted to leave his presence and he could not blame her, but he did not like the gesture and took it as sass.

"Not for long if you disobey me." He snapped and flung the door open wider. She jumped as it banged loudly against the outer walls. Her big eyes flashed from the door, to him, then in defeated embarrassment, to the floor. She looked at him as one would a master whom threatened to throw them over his knee. The hurt, the degradation…he had wounded her tiny pride. As he expected she hid it well; she swallowed hard and made her way forward regardless.

For a moment he glowered at her form: her attempt at composure with a shaking body, quivering bottom lip, and hunched shoulders. He could not help but to be angry, being in such close reach of something he wanted but not allowed to take it was more than enough to make a Count angry. More so since said Count had once been a very spoilt child. But deep down he did admire her. It did take willpower to approach him in such a state. But what did he like more: her willful strength, or forced composure? Perhaps it boiled down to discipline?

He was not sure what it was, but it made his snarl vanish, and actually made him a bit embarrassed himself for having bared fangs at the quaking child. She only meant to protest. In addition, her reason for 'rejecting' him was probably that she wanted to save him the trouble in the first place.

That was one thing the Count did appreciate; she was considerate. Thus, he was tempted to apologize once she was at his side with glassy eyes.

But was it her fear of death that made her eyes brim with tears? The hurt from her hand? Or knowing that she could never again say anything against a command? His face when she had kindly refused him must have given her the impression that he would backhand her if she said no ever again. He certainly did not mean to give off that, it just happened. One could not tempt a vampire with blood without there being some emotional turmoil -- he would admit that.

And he would apologize…but not yet.

xxxx

Awful, horrible, mean and cruel. Was it so hard to understand that I had not meant to insult him? I refused only because I wanted to heal myself, it is one of the only things I can do properly. I could weep, I want to weep, tears are already in my eyes and at my disposal but I refuse to cry. It will only worsen things if I do.

Why was I cursed with carelessness when it came to my own well-being? I can take care of the sick, of babies, and animals, but not myself. I would let my body rot if I was any less attentive! Half the time I do not know what to do with myself, I confuse my own needs. However, I _can _fix myself -- maybe not with magic, but my body heals, and moreover my mind heals. I always fix myself thanks to nature. I don't need spells or potions, just time to tend to my wounds privately. I need to be alone. But oh, he is so mad at me now. He wouldn't let me leave even if I groveled, he would force me to stay out of spite.

But this is my own entire fault.

If I just paid attention to my present self, even for a split second none of this would have happened, this confusing episode would cease to be. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot do it. Now I am to pay the price.

I blame myself for his anger, as I should. But I am ever so grateful that he is…_him_, I suppose. The Count has not hurt me or touched me at all, out of anger or otherwise. I cannot imagine what he is going through right now.

His face looks a bit strained so I think I might be a hunger impulse, or just stepping on his toes for disrupting his work. Either way I am just glad he has not physically hurt me…his words are a bit cruel. He almost yelled. His eyes had been narrowed and his upper lip curled back when he told me, basically 'obey me or perish.' Perish indeed, such a scary face.

To be completely honest though I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I feared his anger of course, I am still uneasy as I follow him down the corridor now. But I just could not imagine him ever harming me out of bloodlust. It is more than uncomfortable to be around him when you're bleeding though. In the few short minutes that he was next to me on the floor, I quickly realized he has no sense of personal space when not in his right mind. I had almost gone cross-eyed at him once he leaned in so close. He kept tilting his head to the side as if curiously analyzing me. I felt like I was under a looking glass. It was very unpleasant. I know what its like to be evaluated by others, and I don't like it, but this was a strange inspection he gave me.

Maybe it was the way he kept slowly inclining his head to the side, maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to flash, or the way he seemed to mindlessly come closer whenever I leaned back. I did not take the gesture as threatening. Quite the opposite actually, I think he was showing me -- by demonstration -- his self-control.

He is a strange man, a _civilized _man. But regardless I have unintentionally insulted him. 'I'll live.' what an awful thing to say to a vampire! I did not mean to mock him, I truly did not. I will do anything to earn his forgiveness.

And I will apologize…but not yet.

XXXX

With his maid in tow, he entered the study, more or less _bitterly_. He was quite gloomy and had every reason to be, but the current most distressing thing -- besides her still spilling lifeblood and the fact he almost made her cry -- was the girls face. It was for that very reason why hew kept his pace a bit quicker than hers, to keep her from his view. He was substantially taller than her; his long legs made this task simple, and even though it was easy to get away from her it was harder still to keep himself from looking back. How this girls face was _torturing _him. For obvious reasons the Count did not like to admit it, but he had never seen a face like hers…she was sopretty!

It was appalling how he: a vampire, would much rather grab her face to simply stare fixedly at it rather than get a hold of her injury.

He kept thinking about that little nose, defined high-arched brows, elegant chin, those elongated rosebud-shaped lips, and her sweetly full cheeks…and had he less decency he might have turned abruptly to pinch them. It was madness.

There was nothing wrong with acknowledging her being pretty -- or so he told himself, but never before had he heard of, never mind known a beautiful girl who wasn't either chatty, snobby, or stupid. His Rona had been in the 'snobby' department…how he missed her glares.

To him she was a strange breed. A conundrum of sorts. But a quiet one.

XXXX

She stood behind him shifting as he looked through the various potions on his desk. From what he saw of the cut he decided that a stronger potion was needed. It was more of a laceration rather than a puncture wound. In other words, her skin needed repairing and not much else.

In moments, he found the bottle that would do just that and handed it to her. She took it with fumbling fingers and eyed him all the while with new apprehension that made him feel almost insecure. It was suspicion that gleamed in her eyes as she toyed with the little glass bottle. He did not like the look especially when it was directed at him. It was as if she was trying to look through him and find any alternative motives. Her glare made him strangely uneasy, so he defensively rebuked.

"Do not make me force you to drink it."

Her eyes fell from his face. The Count gave a quiet sigh of relief at this and watched her attempt to uncork the bottle. Attempt and succeed. She put the glass bottle in the crook of her elbow and gently tugged at the cork with two slender fingers. With the stopper off and rolling in her palm, he expected her to down the potion, but she did not, she had to be difficult.

She began to make quite the show of peering into the bottle, swirling around the contents, and continuing to give him discrete -- but still suspicious -- glances. In that brief amount of time Janus had come to the conclusion that this girl was paranoid. _What a shock..._

"W-what is it sir?"

And possibly stupid.

"Good Gods." He murmured taking a step toward her. To his astonishment the girl jumped back, nearly toppling over a little end table, and held the bottle up as though she had a mind to smash it, her eyes darting from him to the door.

"_Girl_?!" He shouted imploringly with a pained expression, his arms out and fingers splayed in front of him like he was strangling an invisible clone of her. He was astonished. She was overreacting in ways that he had never seen before. Janus wasn't really going to force her to drink it, it was meant as a figure of speech. Could she be that serious? What could posses someone to think that he would actually make good on such a barbaric threat?

"Please sir don't…don't be mad! I'm sorry, I just wanted to know what it was. It is a phobia or, or an instinct. I'm a phobia. I-I mean-"

The Count held up a hand to stop her, the other quickly flying to his temples. This entire ordeal was taking a lot out of him. To keep himself from stomping out in a fit he closed his eyes and forced his body to relax, and once he did finally speak again he used that controlled softness. "Breath alright? Just…take a deep breath hmm? Good. Now, you are loosing a lot of blood, I think we would both like that to stop. The potion will make that stop, I promise you. You're afraid of me, don't be." He looked at her, _eyed _her. She obviously thought he was going to pounce. Why else would she have braced herself against the table like that? "I _won't _hurt you."

She bit her lip and tightly nodded. After another moment of silence she finally brought the flask up to her trembling lips, stared blankly up at the ceiling, and drank. He turned away from her as she did, not wanting to watch her stupidly, and waited. Once he heard the little popping noise as she took the bottle from her mouth he knew it was safe to turn. She looked…dizzy.

It was a common side effect for such a strong potion, so he disregarded it. "Feeling better?" he asked as he absentmindedly strolled over and began taking the bloodied cloth off her; never touching her skin. "I feel…hazy." She lamented. He simply nodded and folded the cloth behind his back.

"Am I drugged?" She asked suddenly, nervously, turning to look at him with heavily lidded eyes.

It was like someone had blown a very loud whistle in his ear. This girl could make Glarthir look like a model citizen. Of course the potion obscured her thoughts and made her blunt, but it was still a significantly shocking question.

"_No_." He began uneasily. "This potion is strong you see. It mends you skin." He ran a finger just above her palm and now bluish, healing, wound. "The body goes into a weary state when undergoing such a drastic change. You're sleepy, not drugged." He kept his hand over hers, never touching. He liked her warmth.

"This is the first healing potion I ever drank." She admitted, her head nearly lolling forward.

"Then the side effects should be harsher then. You had better go to your rooms and get some sleep."

"But sir," She breathed, looking back up at him. "What…would you…have me do?" The Count realized he was _again _bearing down upon her. He didn't even know he was moving until he was inches away from her face. Blood had a magnetic pull to vampires, yet he did not feel the slightest press of his fangs. "I thought," She continued, "you…wanted me."

His lips pressed into a thin, almost invisible line, and he gulped down a mouthful of air -- which was rather unpleasant. He unsure why but her words had a strong impact. He felt unrealistically sleepy, but giddy, and wanted to smile. Janus assumed the sleepiness was simply caused by her warmth. The giddiness was probably made by the fact that he was helping his maid; it wasn't often he could help and be hands-on while doing it. Smiling though? Well besides the fact that she looked silly being nearly draped over his end table he could think of nothing.

The Count curtly nodded and took a small step back. "Indeed I do. You are a dutiful worker; a very good maid. I think it would be best though if you got some sleep."

_And stopped being so damned jumpy_. He added mentally.

XXXX

He listened intently to her bumble out of his manor. Janus felt a need to keep an ear out for her. She was tiny to him, it would be like letting a puppy run free in front of an Orcish marching band if he had coincided to let her roam without his watch. But long after she was gone and her breathing out of earshot he still found himself listening intently.

The dull, heavy, silence of the study was nearly stifling. Had it always been so quiet and calm? The Count was no fan of calamity, but without the recent havoc he realized how very quiet his home had become.

As he fingered the soiled cloth behind his back, he reminded himself of how much he enjoyed the stillness. The hush reserve of his home had always been, and always would be, a comfort -- chaos was overrated.

Yes, the calm was lovely, but the state he was left alone in was lovelier still. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. The little Abigale Lynn had a very sweet smell that he was growing fond of. A mix of sweet pea and violets -- no doubt from her soap, but that mingled with the sent of her flesh, hair, and blood was enough to make any vampire feel like they smoked many heaps of Skooma. (1)

He would admit that growing such a liking to someone over his or her sent and jitters was slightly unsettling. Janus would have much liked to label her stupid, that way he would find her less unique. But he simply could not do that. No stupid person would stay put in front of a vampire while bleeding. Even fools know when to run. Then again he couldn't think of any smart people who would have allowed a vampire tend to their wounds. So what was the matter with that girl? And why did she fake her death?

Janus unfolded the bloodied cloth and stared blankly at it, still wondering. He doubted that she was as big of a mystery as he was making her out to be, but it was fun to solve a puzzle, even if a red-haired one.

It was only then did it finally click though, as the hot remaining fumes of blood drifted under his nose and his thoughts circled its bearer did he feel his fangs pressure. When ready to feed, fangs would push their way through the gum line and show to their full extent. He was surprised by this; usually they would stay in place for him and only come out fully when he had a neck in his hands or body in his grasp. Janus had been around other people's blood before and never did his fangs show -- not since he learned to control himself.

He reached up and massaged his mouth. The last time they had come out of their own accord was when he was only in his seventeenth year of vampirism. It was the almost physical pull of her blood that made him quickly toss the bloodied rag in a waste bin. There was something about it. It was that unnamable _thing _he had been looking for, and he found it. And he was angry, he was so bloody angry. Finally, he found that thing he wanted and it was _in _her. That simply was unfair.

No matter how outraged he had just become over this horrible incongruity, he stomped himself from truly grouching at it.

_Life isn't fair, what makes death any different?_

He cast one last sidelong look at the rag in the waste bin. Was he angry or distraught? Janus shook his head and left the room. What had played across his mind in that brief glance was strictly taboo. He would never do it, he was not an animal.

In effort to calm his sudden raging impulses down he would get himself a drink. He would read his mail, relax, and try his damnedest to keep from noticing the perfumed scent that still lingered in the air.

xxxx

By the time I reached our room stars were blinding my vision. I was so very tired and dizzy, much alike to when I was homeless, if you are without food and try to stand or even move quickly you will get lightheaded and possibly faint. But the potion made my body feel warm and relaxed, too relaxed. The Count commanded me to go to bed and sweet merciful deities I need to.

Being so disoriented I did not even bother to change. My shoes seemed to fall right off my feet and I collapsed onto my bed in a heap of tingling flesh.

Right before my eyes had closed, I outstretched my hand to look at it. I was repulsed. It, I, my clothes, were all caked in blood and most of my skin was a frightening purple color.

xxxx

"HELP! Help! Or gods Tualga look what he _did_!"

"Don't start that now! Lynn? Abby Lynn? Oh wake up sweetie --"

"I told you she was too pretty to be left alone with _him_, he can't control himself! Creature of the night he is! I told you! I told you!"

"Shut up! You melodramatic piece of sod!"

They were shouting straight in my ears. I wanted to sleep so badly that I could cry over this. Out of spite I didn't bother to groan or moan, or give them any sort of attention. I only muttered, "Let me sleep." and tried to roll over.

"She lives!" Tualga exclaimed. I was sluggish and again didn't respond. I listened to Rheena as she scuttled over to my bedside, I could easily recognize the shuffling of her tiny feet by now.

The noise and commotion wasn't unusual in our room. We are three different generations, and races, of woman. We are inclined to argue but never do our quarrels get physical. So I was used to the noise, just not the abrupt contact when I was roughly pulled upward into a sitting position and being shook. "Speak more to me Lynn, don't make me hit ya!" At this I opened my eyes to finally see what the commotion was about this time.

"What?" I practically whined. "Cant I sleep in for once? I want to sleep so very badly…"

"Sleep? Abby you can't sleep now. For goodness sake, you're covered in blood!"

"Blood?" I mumbled, and then it all came back. Whenever I think of blood, gold, or black hair, the Count always comes to my mind. When speaking of blood this time however, I thought of swords. "Oh…oh no." I quickly stood; gently forcing my way out of Tualga's worried grasp and began peeling of my stained apron. I was repulsed, I had slept in blood-stained linens, looking like death, and stayed that way only to be awoken by my pregnant friend. _Irresponsible_.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to scare you --"

"He bit you didn't he! Oh I knew this would happen!" Rheena shouted, placing her wrists to her temples and began her rapid babbly speech, something me and Tualga are both use to. "I swear I did! See, when I was five my grandmamma said I could see in the future! I knew my puppy would die when I was twelve, I saw my marriage to Verick in a _dream_, I could _feel _that he had shady business, I've seen you getting _bit_, and recently these giant hellish portals pooping up in a cornfield! And --"

"Will you _kindly _shut up?!" Tualga snapped, thankfully ending her rant. "Lynn ignore her, but tell me what happened. Did he? You know…I mean"

I shook my head, finally and efficiently, taking my apron off without getting anymore messy. "Gods no! He helped me. I-I had an accident, I cut my hand open and he fixed it." I began to hastily unbutton my shirt. I couldn't wait to take a long, hopefully interrupted bath. "He is so kind…Gods I cant believe I am so impossible to deal with. I pity him, keeping a fool like me. If he decides to throw me away I can't say I would blame him."

Rheena suddenly rounded on me. "No, no don't you say that! You're so sweet, if he'd ever lay a hand on you, I swear! Me and Tualga talk about it all the time. It's so curious, _he's _so curious. He must like you, why else would he want you near him all night? He's never done that before."

I was nearly in only my undergarments when she and Tualga quickly began fighting over the Counts honor. Maybe I don't know him well, maybe we're not social intimates, but does that matter? What I do know is that he is very sympathetic. That is my conclusion as why he is so nice to me, so I told them both this as I hurriedly left the room bathe.

My philosophy on this is quite easy: If a person finds a little kitten on their doorstep wouldn't they take it in? If they gave it milk and treated it kindly yet it still shied away from their hand wouldn't they question why? If a thorn got stuck in its paw wouldn't they pull it out, knowing that one day the kindness would be reciprocated?

This, I believe, is what the Count has been doing and will hopefully continue to do. One day I _will_ give back whatever I can to him, I desperately want to show him my appreciation…one day I will.

xxxx

After two very hot baths I decided it was time for me to move before the Stewardess came knocking. Somehow she always knows when I'm in the tub and has shooed me out once before. It was quite embarrassing. Thankfully this time I heard her talking in our lunch/sitting/living area and emerged from the water with haste.

With a towel around my waist I left the stall, making my way over to the lone cracked-corner mirror to dry off. Its not that wish to look at myself, but the mirror is tucked away in the far-off corner of the bathing room, just as a precaution I'm away from the door incase any Argonians decide they want to push me out dripping wet in front of the butler. I had my towel handy that time, and as a further blessing on my part many Orcs are not interested in little soft Bretons such as myself.

I wiped down my arms, stomach, legs, and back without so much a disturbing knock. But once I brought the towel up to rub my hair down one final time I actually noticed my reflection, and screamed. My scars were gone, tiny hair sized white lines had taken their place. All my ugly purple and pink blemishes had nearly vanished completely. I was astounded, so much so that I did even know I screamed, or yelped, rather.

In moments Tualga and Hal-Liurz banged into the room, both wielding pewter kitchen cutlery.

"Did one of those stupid Khajiit groundskeepers sneak in here again?" The Stewardess snapped as she began peaking in each empty stall.

"Wha- no, no. I just…" I scrambled down and pulled my towel up again to cover myself, but in a quick glance Tualga had looked over at me gaped.

"Lynn your scars are all missing! What happened? Where'd they go?"

"The Count!" I exclaimed, still more shocked than happy as I too gawked at my pale legs. "He…the potion! He, he, fixed me."

Hal-Liurz was quickly making her way over to me. "What do you mean he fixed you?" She demanded. "What potion are you talking about girl?"

In moments I quickly recapped my little accident and the Counts heroism. I told her all of my embarrassing actions and the Counts careful ones. I thoroughly clarified my carelessness, making sure to stress that the Count didn't seem very angry. And even though I explained to her that the Count was no more affected by my blood than I was, she did not believe me. Her face contorted and grew angrier and angrier with each passing minute and I did not understand why.

He did seem a little funny around my blood, but he didn't do anything too strange. I think it only gave him a headache. Which makes me think he kept getting so close to me was only because his head was foggy. It wasn't like I was a hunger temptation. I thought I was at first, but now that I think about it I doubt it. He wasn't licking the blood off of my fingers after all.

"Are you telling me," The Stewardess began with a shaken angry voice. "That you were _foolish_ enough to _bleed_ in front of the _Count? _Am I supposed to sympathize or find this amusing? Idiot girl! Do you realize what could have happened to you? What you could have put him through?! Out of all my years of servitude I have never heard of anything to this extent."

She lowered her voice and took me by my naked shoulders and pulled my to her face. "You gushed your blood in a _vampire's _home! In his room! If he was not as good of a man as he is you would have been long dead by now. I have seen things you could not possibly imagine…I have watched that man turn into what he is and fight his every urge. I won't stand by idly and let some stupid girl put him through that hell again. Mark me,"

I blinked and stared at her, wanting to say: 'I promise I won't be so simple.' but those words never came. She refused to let me go. Instead she lowered here voice even more, so only she and I could hear it. "The Count may find you harmless but I know better. Any little 'mistake' like that again and I will permanently relieve you of his service. You will vanish altogether, and I will make sure you _don't come back_." (2) And with that she forcefully let me go and stomped over to the exit. "I'm going to see the Count. Ready yourself girl, compose a formal apology and memorize it. I'll be back shortly so you had better be prepared when I do."

Me and Tualga both winced as the door slammed behind her.

We lapsed into silence. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to think. The female who is in charge with my security had just threatened my life. Not only that, but she made me see the true magnitude of my actions. I was more than just ashamed, but words cannot describe the lowly state I'm in now.

"Lynn, what did she say?" Tualga asked quietly as she walked over to me.

"Y-you heard her. I'm to be prepared, that is all."

XXXX

The blood was raising his spirits. That, and he just received a nice letter from the High Chancellor.

Nice, in the sense that the head of the Mages guild were vocally expressing their poverty and were currently accepting handouts.

_He could _kindly decline, but that would make it much too easy for the mages. The Count would much rather invite the Arch Mage over to dinner, feign sympathy, offer up some pocket change and tell the guild head to buy a new hat. _That_ would be much more satisfactory. Janus would have to think about it.

He chuckled and threw the letter onto the end table and reclined further back into his sofa. The night was still young and he had a no more to do other than relax for the remaining hours. Tomorrow he had letters to write and tax records to reread, but other than that the weekend was going to be a quiet one. No clients, no blackmail, no drama. Just the way he liked it.

Janus had forced the earlier incident out of his mind in order to calm himself. It worked surprisingly well. Instead of going over the event, he kept himself busy and thought on different things, like Rona. However his musings were cut short. His door received several loud knocks and Janus immediately recognized the rhythm.

He didn't bother with standing; she was used to him by now, so he only called to her instead.

The door banged opened and in marched Hal-Liurz, looking as furious as ever. "Your Grace, I just heard what happened."

The Count raised a brow and continued sipping from his glass. "What, happened?"

"The incident that accrued here a few hours ago." She stood by the arm of the sofa, her scales slightly flushed from anger. "I cannot believe that I was not informed by _you_, sir. Do years of loyalty mean nothing? This was an extreme event, whether or not you choose to see it as such."

Placing the goblet down on the table, trying to keep from looking the Argonian in the eyes, he answered. "You're taking it too personally. What happened earlier was of little importance."

"_Really_?" She rebuked. "Is that why you're drinking like a fiend now?" The Stewardess sniffed and pointed toward his open cabinet. "You've opened two bottles and drained nearly all of it in a matter of hours. Correct me if I'm wrong my Lord, but I thought you drank a glass or two every other day. How am I supposed to find this of little importance again, when you are breaking your strict cycle?"

His face darkened and the Count found himself slowly standing. "Watch it."

Having known him all her life the Stewardess was not intimidated. She only crossed her arms and glared back into his eyes. "You still plan on letting her work with you?" She questioned, more as demanded.

"Yes." He said through gritted teeth, finally turning away from her. "It was one small mistake, it could have happened to anyone. I won't patronize the girl for it, at least not this time."

"I can't believe the actions of that idiot girl."

The Count quickly rounded on the Stewardess for saying this. Hearing his maid being called names sparked an unusual anger through him. "I told you to watch your mouth! If you cannot learn to hold your tongue for five seconds I will remove you! Do not insult _my_ maid."

Hal-Liurz eyed the Count very carefully for a moment. "Your maid?" She repeated as though trying out the saying. Hal-Liurz watched him swallow and nod, visually giving no incriminating indication, but she knew something was there. Being a woman herself she knew the ways and likes of men. She knew that any man would be partial to a pretty, young, bashful, girl like Abigale Lynn. The Stewardess assumed this was why he was very defensive over the little lady. She could see right through him, he might think it was a harmless attraction, but Hal-Liurz knew better.

"I can't believe she bled in front of you." She muttered, trying to change the subject.

The Count laughed and took his goblet from the table, making his way over to refill it.

"What's funny?" The Stewardess asked, slightly a bit unnerved by the Counts humor. His mood swings were one of the only things she found truly frightening.

"Well _Miss_ Liurz, she is a _woman_, it's a bit inevitable. I was bound to catch her blood at some point."

The Stewardess flushed purple again, this time with embarrassment. "That's different."

"Is it?"

With shake of her head and cluck of her tongue the Argonian turned to leave. "I don't believe it's my place to judge such a thing, I'll leave that burden to you. Don't expect to much privacy my Lord, I'm sending _your_ girl up to talk with you. She has some things to say."

XXXX

Hal-Liurz key ring jingled loudly as she pushed through the last set of doors. _"Men." _She found it astonishing and slightly appalling how they could be so easily swayed by pretty girls. _"Vampires." _She mentally corrected herself. Even they were no different to the gawking rule, so it seemed. That Abigale could get away with murder with the bat of a lash. It was horrible. The Stewardess was happy she never married; although she did turn down a couple nice looking Argonian boys in her day she could never bring herself to regret it.

Who needs love when you have chocolate? Who need children when you have employees to order? And who wants to be drooled at by the opposite sex all day long? All married men ever thought about was money or sex _"Pigs." _She did hope that Abigale Lynn would enjoy the constant gawking. At the mere mention of her to the Count his eyes lit up like a damn mage light. He enjoyed the view and all knew he earned the right to stare. He proved to be a hard man to please, and Hal-Liurz had never once seen him casting any maid a second glance. She may not have caught him in the act with Abigale Lynn, but she wasn't stupid. The girl was a beauty with big breasts and wide hips, of course he would stare. (3)

xxxx

My Lord I am very, very sorry for being so stupid. I am very, very sorry for ruining your evening. Could you find it in your heart…no, no that wont do.

I was really at a loss for words, even when entering the Counts manor. Everything I had prepared myself to say sounded more foolish the closer I got to the Count. I wanted my apology to be genuine, I wanted to thank him and really show how happy he had made me just with one potion. Being able to express all this though required a long-winded speech on my part. I know I would fail at that. How can one express adoration when limited to seven words?

Simply saying: 'Sorry my Lord but I adore you.' could rouse some discomfort on both our parts. I don't want to thank him too intensely. I can't jump around giggling while worshipping the ground he walks on; I don't want to frighten him. How am I to do this? I mustn't be afraid, or nervous, I want to present myself like a lady and thank him. I want to be able to look him in the eye when I apologies, without hunching my shoulders or backing away.

I want him to know how much what he did meant to me, even if it means nothing to him. For me to express this sentiment is all I wish for right now. I hope I can do something, anything, to let him know that I am eternally grateful and will always do whatever he asks, no matter how I may fumble about while doing it.

_

* * *

_

_Authors Notes: Woohoo done! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Now, for the 1,2,3's. _

_1. Moonsugar is Skooma. You can smoke it in Morrowind, thus 'heaps'. ^^_

_2. Don't be angry at Hal-Liurz. She had to watch the Count go through his 'withdrawals' before and has every right to get mad at Abigale for he stupidness. XD_

_3. To clear this up, I want Abigale to have some meat on her bones. She isn't obese, she's not chunky, but she has a round belly and is rightfully proportioned: Hips, butt, breasts, thighs, arms, stomach. _


	14. The Best Development

Authors notes: Alrighty then! As you all may know by now I have never been acknowledged for my succinct writing skills XD But this chapter is by far the worst of all. I had problems writing this because of unimportant stuff. You have my word that chapters from me will not suck so much if I can prevent it…this was unpreventable XD I just wanted it OUT! (I almost scraped this several times, but I didn't want you to have to wait any longer!) D:

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter Twelve: The Best Development

xxxx

There was a time in my youth where I would have appreciated this. I have always been a shy girl, but when I was younger I loved these opportunities. The prospect of thanking someone vigorously was a fascination to me at the time. I looked for any excuses I could to have a reason to say 'thank you', even to complete strangers. It was something to say for me, something powerful, and meaningful, but only consisted of two little words.

It acted as a conversation starter. Usually children are bursting with questions and such, but I was not, I was afraid to speak up. I was embarrassed easily over little things ever since I was small. On one particular occasion a friend of my mothers commented on my blush. He said I was as red as a tomato while pinching my cheek. I was eleven at the time and little me had thought the man was handsome. As soon as he said this though my eyes burned with tears and I never found him charming again. Even at a young age I hated attention, but loved to talk. In my eyes I thought he would have been an interesting conversationalist, he thought I was a tomato.

My parents had said that I was too sensitive, too bashful, too serious, and far too quiet. I was and still am but I now desperately need to snap out of it. In order to thank the Count, in order to apologize to him I need to speak.

So here I am at his manor door again trying to sum up the will to go and talk with him. At this juncture in my life I wish I still found conversation interesting. Maybe then I could at least pry myself off his decorative columns.

The silence in his home is calming to me, but when nervous it makes my ears ring and hands get especially cold. To get my blood to flow I took a step forward and began rubbing my hands together. No sooner had I done this did I hear a door open. His door of course, and I instinctively clung to the pillar once again.

The Count stepped out of his bedchamber and looked down the hall at me. I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle -- more out of excitement than fear. For a moment all he did was watch me, only when the silence had stretched for what felt like a considerably long time did he beckon me to come down the hall with two fingers. Despite my now tingling palms and fluttery stomach I forced my arms to my sides and walked over to him as quickly as I could, all the while watching my posture. Once I was before him I looked _up, _nearly having to arch my neck all the way back to look him in the eyes.

"I hear you have something you wish to say to me."

"…Yes."

"I am listening, take your time."

I sighed thankfully through my nose and prepared myself to speak. Only then did I realize though that I did not decide on what I was going to say. Would thanking him first be more appropriate? Would an apology be better? Oh dear.

"W-what I wanted to say…It…I'm--" I cut myself off, biting my lip and looked up to him again imploringly. _What do I say? How do I say it? Is now the best time? _"You, you…Thanks I want…erm, no. I…"

He kept looking away from me. I hope he is not annoyed. He keeps looking down and nodding his attention back up at me. I must make this quick, I want to tell him before I loose all of his attention.

XXXX

She was sweet, really she was. A shy sweetheart making her best attempts to please him. Janus wasn't entirely touched by the sentiment, but in a small way he was moved. She was trying her hardest to say the right thing and say how she felt -- he made that much out of her babbling so far.

Little did she know she had already earned the Counts forgiveness. On the contrary to being angry with her for the accident, he was rather pleased that she did. If she had never cut herself she would still be in an apron, and if she were still in an apron he would have never been able to stare down at her and get such an interesting view. He hadn't meant to look, but _they _were _there_, pushed up tight against a square-cut black blouse. It was such a contrast to her pale skin that he had to look. Any one would…

It was her fault anyway for wearing such a shirt. It wasn't entirely low-cut, but she should have taken in their height difference before parading around under his nose in it.

Although he found this all rather charming, he felt the need to help her somehow. He wanted to give her something to take the edge off such a 'crucial' meeting. But what could he do to help her talk to him? Obviously she found him intimidating, as anyone would. Somehow he had to make her feel less like a petty slave and more like a young lady who came to apologize for her bad manners.

He easily blamed his compassion for her: it was her blood, her eyes, and that all around dolefulness that seemed to seep from her pores.

The Count thought back to when he was young, before his marriage, _and_ his decency. She wasn't the first pretty maid to service him, but she was certainly the prettiest. In his youth when he found a lady pretty, regardless of her station, he would do what any gentleman would do.

Skingrad wines were famous after all.

xxxx

"Please my Lord, I'm sorry for all my babbling. What I am trying to say…or apologize for. --"

The Count suddenly held up a hand for me to stop, and with that one signal he made my heart thud and face burn. My first fear was that he was going to dismiss me. If he did I would have to tell Hal-Liurz this and she would be far more than angry. The Stewardess threatened me _again_ beforehand, she said that if I failed at something as simple as this then it would be my blood in the Counts bottles tomorrow. I don't think she was making a mark at my life again that time, but at my wellbeing -- which is not much better.

But he was smiling at me. A small apologetic smile that plainly said 'I pity you, you stupid girl'. He bowed his head closer to me, instinctively I tensed but other than that remained still. That smile was still there along his thin lips, and even with that and our close proximity I didn't feel very scared. I was a little, but that could have been for many reasons: man, vampire, the feeling of entrapment. Although these factors and notions played in the current they did not faze me as much as they should have.

Perhaps it was from that dumbstruck chill that creeps up my spine whenever he comes so close -- it could have numbed my senses. There was just something about the Count that I feel comfortable with. He has never hurt me or even attempted to. He threatened my life, yes, but has yet to make good on it. I'm unsure to whether or not its trust that I feel. All my life I have never trusted anyone but my father and mother and I ended up running away from them. It's not safe for me to hold such a sentiment.

I may be wrong, as I often have difficulties understanding my own needs and comforts, but I think it could be the Counts body language that calms me. Never a faulty gesture, no surprises. Everything he does is apparent and cultured. I'm not afraid of him suddenly rushing at me, or grabbing my arm in anger -- at least not anymore. I trust his eyes too, which is ironic, being that they are redder than polished garnet.

Yes. When it comes to body language I usually can predict what it is he will do. Like right now, he will probably tell me that I'm a silly girl then lean back and tell me to slow down or calm down.

"Are you going to be alright?" He asked me quietly. I certainly was close but the question -- like most of his questions -- took me off guard. I never did say I understood _his _speech.

"I…yes?"

And then he did lean back and cross his arms, but also gave me a new smug smile. New, seeing as he's never smiled at me like that before.

"I thought so. Come with me."

XXXX

He had to hold back laughter as she stared up at him like he had ten heads. The Count of Skingrad had never received such a look when he offered a lady a chair. But this girl was different…more as strange.

All he had done was bring her to his bedroom, closed the door, and told her to have a seat. Her lips seemed to automatically purse and form a little O. She was going to question him, or _attempt_ to, but quickly decided against it when she met his eyes again.

She lowered herself onto the chair gracefully but sat _funny_. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she scooted to the very edge of her seat, lace her fingers in her lap, and lock her legs together at the knees. He even heard the bones in her knees clap together with the force she applied. She had every intent of jumping up again if he tried anything funny and the Count saw this. Janus actually found it slightly amusing. She was so paranoid over everything. He had even heard that she gave the butler similar treatment.

When he walked over and placed a bottle of wine before her on the little table, and two tall glasses, she gave him that same look again. The, 'What are you doing? Why are you doing it?' look.

And when he sat across from her he watched, with slight irritation, as she scooted further back into the chair.

One could say he was testing her. Another could say he was testing himself. What Janus believed himself to be doing was simply holding a formal chat. He truly wanted her to be comfortable, and wanted to see how she would react to him after a drink. In all it was an experiment on both their parts. If she could just except a drink and actually drink it than he was positive that he could ware away all her quirks. But if she refused and threatened to smash her glass -- much like she pulled hours before -- then she really was a lost cause.

It was a sad assumption, but a true one. Little can fathom the bond that can be formed by simply sharing some wine with the person in front of them.

xxxx

I did think mere minutes ago that I could guess anything the Count would do, but I was very wrong. Never in all my life did I think he would have me sit in one of his fine chairs. Never in my life did I imagine he would look at me as a scholar would to a curious student. And never in my life did I ever dream of him placing a glass of wine in front of me. And because of all this I was as nervous as ever.

Every time he looked at me I felt my face burn. The way he moved, or how his eyes seemed to keep sweeping down on me had me feeling very self-conscious. It took great effort on my part to keep from gnawing away at my lip and stop my legs from moving. I was already itching to leave.

I tried to calm myself down by looking at the intricate carvings on the sides of the table before us. But I could still feel his eyes on me, as obvious as if he were poking me. I was going to have to tough this out, appear nonchalant, thank and apologize. Possibly I will get away and be able to tell Tualga or Rheena the goings on between the Count and I. Not that I want to gossip, or that I will even tell them anything, but I do like the idea of being alive and having the choice to say it.

_Please, my Lord, don't hurt me._

He gently pushed the wine closer to me and waved a hand near it to invite me to drink. I tried to smile in thanks but all that could form on my lips was a tight grimace. To keep him from seeing this I covered my mouth in what I thought was a casual gesture, if one looked past my trembling hand.

It wasn't entirely the fact that I was fearing for my own wellbeing, but the pressure that comes with my current position. I am a servant, I am a maid, I should not be sharing wine with the _Count _of Skingrad.

Some might see this as a beneficial opportunity. From what I gathered this does not happen often, thus I must have done something to earn the pleasure of his more intimate company. However that does not sit well with me and never has. I have done nothing do deserve such an honor, so I should be left well alone. This all leads me to suspect something must be wrong. But what? Perhaps I am too paranoid for my own good. Maybe I should just use this opportunity and make my peace with him.

"I thought being in a more comfortable setting would help you." He said with a soft gaze, ultimately jolting me from my stupor. "You needn't be afraid, you are in no trouble at all. I cannot hold you accountable for an accident."

'_Oh gods_,' I shifted in my seat. _'he is so polite.' _And I wanted to be polite too. He was acting as a gentleman would and I found myself wondering why I had been frightened at all. Anyone who can hold such a sympathetic voice as that while keeping eye-contact must be genuine. But I have been bewitched before by a pair of red eyes fairly close to being like his…I'll try to be kind, but I shall still tread with caution.

XXXX

The Count watched with an odd fascination as she shakily settled herself further into the chair. She was trying to relax and calm herself and he would give her time to do so. He had all the time in the world after all.

She was such a strange creature, but everything she did made him want to watch her more. It was almost turning into an obsession. He desperately wanted to know what made her tick with each breath she took.

He could see the wheels madly turning behind her eyes. No matter what the circumstance they spun. Her thoughts must be wild. It would explain her behavior…but did she always have to think about everything?

Fascinating...

"I would be lying if I said I didn't know you were still wary of me." He smiled again softly as he watched her rubbing at her knuckles. "Although I cannot blame you for being so I find it rather distracting. The wine would help calm you. Perhaps it would make this more enjoyable for us both as well."

She carefully looked up at him, already pink cheeked and swollen lipped -- lips especially he found himself staring at. They were so soft looking and full…not that he cared, but looking at them was nice. He couldn't stare long though, he soon felt that nearly magnetic tug of her eyes pulling him up to meet her gaze. Janus doubted that she even wanted him to look at her, but her eyes were so piercing that it could not be helped, so he complied. Their locked gaze only lasted a heartbeat long, but in the time it was held Janus could feel the intensity of it. He wondered what it would feel like to have those eyes on him for a longer amount of time. To just have her stare up at him --

She was picking up her glass.

At first she held it childishly in both hands as she brought it to her face. She stared into the red, swirling, liquid with little contempt -- the look one gave a bottle of ale after a hangover -- then placed it between her fingers and took a small, tentative sip, leaving Janus slightly shocked. He had almost expected her to not drink.

Happily surprised, he took a sip from his own glass as well, noticing the little crumpled face the girl was starting to make. He held back a chuckle and watched her dink a little more, and a little more, her wrinkled nose remaining apparent. "Is it to your liking?" He teased, knowing all too well that she was drinking for politeness sake only.

"It…it is very," She paused and stared into her cup. "Sweet."

The Count simply nodded and felt little relief from the new topic. He could have started a conversation on his own but it was easier to have her do it for him. Not that he was bashful, but he didn't think the girl would be too keen on discussing her own lips…"Yes, well, this _is_ Surille wine. I am more partial to them rather than Tamika. They add sugar to it. I'm afraid I am plagued with a sweet tooth." _Two of them, _he thought bitterly.

He watched the corners of her mouth pull upward for a moment as she nodded. His little servant had smiled her first at him. He wondered if the wine was taking effect already. She had polished off her first glass after all, so it was possible.

Without another thought he took the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. "Our dearest Stewardess has told me you wished to apologize for acting irrationally and," He paused, deciding it best to just quote the Argonian word for word. "Idiotically."

The Breton perked up and nodded but stayed silent. "She is under the impression that you hurt yourself on purpose to irk me. She is…an easily annoyed woman so I let her comment slide. I did not defend you, but don't fret, I know it was an accident. I just wanted to hear what you have to say." The girl stared wide-eyed at hearing this, gripping her glass to the point it may have shattered. Of course she was innocent, but knowing that they had even debated otherwise sent chills up her spine and Janus could sense them.

"I-I implore you…please. It was accidental, this I swear. My Lord I never wish to cause you any grievance. I am so sorry for the way I acted. So, so sorry…" She trailed off and bowed her pretty head. The Count could feel that she was ashamed and embarrassed, but above all things _pitiful_. Always so pitiful.

Usually he did not care for the comfort of others in the sense of embarrassment. However this time he did and wanted to say something. Janus reasoned again that he felt sympathetic for her only because she was young, but still so sincere. Just as he was about to offer some words of comfort she began speaking again in that hushed and hurried voice.

"Sir I-I will be honest with you now. I want to be good for you but I cant help myself. I am always afraid, afraid of everything and I wish I was not. But you are so kind to me and I don't know why. I want to know why. I want to be kind to you."

The wine was definitely in effect, and after only two glasses. (1) Still he felt quite taken aback by her outburst. She even said that he was kind to her. He hadn't know that, the whole reason he was trying to be charming was to prove that he could show compassion.

Being a little dumbstruck the Count refilled another glass for her and murmured. "You are just a very shy girl. It will pass, soon you will feel less awkward around me. Once you realize that I wont attack you --"

"But I am not afraid of that." She pleaded, "I am afraid of other things, but not that, sir."

He looked up at her, away from the glass and back to her eyes, and saw just how much she meant those words. Her soft gaze lulled him speechless. Any word that left her mouth was honest and true. She was not afraid of his disease but was still afraid of him and he could not imagine why. (2) He had always felt something extra in her stares, aside from her usual paranoia. It was as though she resented him for something he could not remember doing. He doubted that it was because she was forced to stay with him, he heard from the stewardess that the girl was pleased with her new home. So what could it be and why was it there?

"What are you afraid of?" Janus knew better than to pry when the girl was under the influence but could not refrain from doing so. He had a right to know after all.

She shifted, as always, and looked down at her feet. "You are so kind." She whispered, still averting his gaze. She chewed on her lip and looked so sad, nearly on the verge of tears. "How long will it last?"

There his mouth ran away from him. It broke through his will and spouted off the first thing that came to mind: "Forever." He felt so distressed by his servant. The Count had never seen _anyone_ like her. So sad and broken like a wilted flower. He could not allow her to be like that, he would not let her be under the illusion of him hurting her at some point. No, he would never hurt her. Such a pretty girl, such a beautiful _women_ should not be afraid. He was there now, he wouldn't let her be scarred. She was so sweet and shy…she disserved only kindness, and that would be justice. (3) He knew she would return this kindness in time, and Gods knew he needed that.

It would be nice to have someone look at him differently for a change. Like an equal, even if for a moment.

XXXX

It was near dawn and she was smiling a lot now. Her arms were crossed and relaxed on the armrest of the chair and her head was neatly settled in their nook. Her feet would swing back and forth along the carpet and the Count listened to the constant _swish swish _of the fabric as her toes hit it.

He had lost count of just how many glasses on wine she had. He had known better than to fill her cup each time it emptied but she seemed to talk a little more with every sip. She was quite amusing to, still so shy even when drunk. Janus was enjoying himself and she was as well. Every so often she would giggle nervously and babble on about the heat of the room. She would touch her face, bring her cool fingertips to her burning cheeks and smile. But what got him the most was how much she talked about _him_. Saying he was so generous, kind, and gentle…and tall. She commented on his height a questionable amount of times.

All in all she was _precious_, and certainly knew how to stroke an ego.

"You fixed me to." She babbled on, keeping that adoring tone and expression. "I'm all patched up now thanks to you, my lord."

Her eyelashes continued to bat his way and forced him to smile. "Did I now? May I ask what it was that I fixed?" (4) It was not nice for him to encourage her, it was not in his station to do so, but it was fun. Janus humored her and himself, two birds with one stone. There was nothing really wrong with it. So far it had been nothing but small, innocent conversation.

She sighed, and he dared himself to label it as dreamily. "Everything. All my scars are…well I just don't have anymore. You fixed me with that potion of yours." She then started up the giggling again. "Your magical!"

He would have commented, he should have commented but instead he kept his mouth shut. Janus wondered if he had pushed her past the breaking point with alcohol or if she truly did have scars and he took them away. If so then it was very accidental, a big mistake actually if he was honest with himself. That meant the potion had been far too strong, especially for a young woman. It was no wonder she seemed so sleepy the night before, her little body couldn't handle it.

But he did remember the stewardess mentioning something about her body before when the girl first arrived. The Count hadn't even memorized her face though, it was only the first few weeks after all, so he naturally could have cared less. Now though, it was a big problem.

"Scars?" He finally spoke, albeit nervously. "I don't remember ever seeing a mark on your body." He then cleared his throat and fiddled quickly with his collar, staring up to a brick on the ceiling that had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world. "Not that I looked." (5)

"I had them all over!" She exclaimed, while making quick work of pulling back her dark lace sleeve. "See that right there? That little white line was a bad one but it poofed away from that drink…I mean, _because_ of that drink."

Now, that little white line didn't exactly have his rapt attention; her skin did. She was _so_ pale! Sickly so, if her cheeks weren't always sporting a small blush he would have sworn they were kin. So soft, and white, and smooth, it even smelled like her soap. For a redhead she was severely lacking freckles -- he had only counted two by her wrist. Her blue veins even shown themselves proudly, once again contrasting to her skin in such a way that he had to look. Anyone would…

It did make him wonder how she got it. If that potion was as strong as he thought it was then any little mark should be gone all together, but she still had remnants of it. "You said you had more?" He casually pried. Once again he should have done what he always did and let the strange conversation die…but this was more interesting.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes." She uncrossed her legs and bent over in the chair and grabbed at the hem of her skirt. "Here look." And in quite literally a flash, she had lifted up her skirt in front of the poor Count.

His first reaction was to shout for her to mind her manners and pull her dress back down. The second was to shield his eyes from the near neon white legs to protect his retinas (6). But the instinct that pulled on him the hardest was for him to simply sit, stare, go bug-eyed, and gape.

After all, she was the palest woman he had ever seen _and _this was the first time he saw a ladies legs in years.

She had her skirts hiked up, revealing one leg all the way up to her thigh. She began running her fingers delicately over her calf and saying…something about a wolf. The Count, who was still thoroughly shocked, just kept nodding, trying desperately to swallow down the sudden lump that formed in his throat. When she had finally dropped her skirt, now concluding her wolf tale, the Count was still nodding.

When Janus eventually realized that she had finished speaking he felt an obligation to say something. Anything, so long as it would keep the silence from forming and stop certain thoughts from bloom. "No stockings?" Certainly not the most articulate question, but to a drunk it was good enough.

"Stewardess rushed me up to see you so I had no time for…for," A dazed expression formed on her face. A telltale sign that drinking time was over. "…socks."

"Ah."

Silence ensued and stretched. Although it was not uncomfortable the Count was ready to dismiss her for it. His servant looked as though she was ready to flop down and sleep, which would end smoothly on the Counts' part. After all, how would he wake her? He wasn't a man that went about touching random girls he didn't know in order to wake them. He had a feeling that most ladies weren't big fans of getting roused out of sleep by a vampire.

So he made up his mind. They both had an awkward yet tolerable evening, but one mustn't overindulge. He would see her everyday for the rest of her life, sending her back to bed was no crime. But just as he was about to send her off, she spoke. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for everything you…you do. And I'm very sorry for being a bother and wantin to smash yer bottles. I mean," She hiccupped. "your potions." His servant gave another long sigh. "I wish I was a better slave."

Ouch. Did she really have to be so black and white about it. Slave. Out of nowhere that word made him feel uneasy and a little dirty too, even though he himself referred to her as one only hours before. It was what she wanted to be; by choice it was that or death, most would have chosen the latter if they knew he was a vampire. But why did it make him feel so vile? It was _her _choice so technically she was _not_ a slave because no one would ever pick such a fate.

He tossed the idea around in his mind trying to put to words what makes one a slave, all the while trying to prove that the girl in front of him was just a hired hand. He was having much difficulty doing both.

"You have sooo many books here my Lord." She smiled and glanced over to some unnamable book he had on the nightstand. "Do you like to read? I love to read but I've never had so many books like you."

XXXX

Once again it was not the smartest thing to do, nor was it the most beneficial on his part, but he had to do something to send her away as a servant, not a slave.

After the girl had expressed her liking for books he offered her access to his library. Janus allowed her to take a book out and keep it, read it, and return it in exchange for a new one. Oh did she glow when he made such an offer! She acted as if it was the greatest thing anyone had ever done for her. Perhaps that was the alcohol though. Either way it certainly made the Count feel so much better about having her leave him. It was, for now, his own way of payment -- that he did not tell the girl. Instead of gold she obtained knowledge. What better substitute for currency she could never spend?

Now he needed to relax…and drink. He would never admit it directly but Hal-Liurz was right about his sudden shift in feeding. Janus wasn't naive, he knew the girl was his main source of problems in that department. He just wanted her…What was inside her anyway. It had been a long time since he had been around someone as often as he was her, so naturally he was seeing the girl in many, many lights. Not that it was a problem, he could control any little petty instinct that worked its way into his mind.

But he truly did want her to like him and that was something he had just concluded but didn't fully understand. She was just so different: pure and young. How could she have possibly been a thief?

None of that mattered now. She was here and she was his. He would encourage her to do good, to be a light, his little light in the dark. That was the deal: he sparred her life and she became his. It was this to save her neck. This to save that beautiful neck.

Janus sighed heavily, his gaze growing somber at the thought. _Too bad she's just a child. _

But he didn't bother to register the that. It went away with a brush of his hand and sweep of his dark cloak. It was time for another walk.

XXXX

Tualga looked down at the cards in her hand, giving the Redguard across from her a mischievous smirk. Rheena drummed her fingers nervously as she too looked down at her hand. She didn't need a premonition to tell her the outcome in this game.

"You ready to lose?" The Nord asked, still grinning like a cat. "Put your cards down woman! Your only torturing yourself, ya know? And prolonging your demise."

"It is just a game!" Rheena snapped, tossing her cards unto the table in dismay. "I hate playing with you! You're such a sore winner!"

"Yer damn right!" Tualga laughed, scooping up the six gold pieces after a quick check of the cards. "Maybe if ya didn't have such shit luck you'd win for once."

Rheena stood, placing a protective hand over her small belly. She would have commented back at Tualga, most likely say something that insulted her culture -- as was their custom -- but a gentle tap on her shoulder pushed those thoughts away. And when she and Tualga turned they both simultaneously gaped.

Behind them stood Shum the butler, who had a rather ragged looking girl in his arms. The half Breton he was carrying kept muttering the same, 'You can put me down now, please' over and over.

"Does this belong to you?" Shum asked, eyeing the girl in his arms with little distaste. "I found her down in the private quarters, mumbling something about a book. She nearly died of a heart attack when I asked her what she was doing."

"Lynn?!" Tualga gawked, still unsure if it was okay to laugh or to be worried. "What the hell? Wha's the matter with her?"

The Butler snorted "Surille wine is what's the matter with her. She reeks of it!"

Abigale finally looked up, and met eyes with the confused pair of women. "Hi!" She exclaimed. Then reached out her arms and smiled, _politely_ asking for help, "Help."

Rheena and Tualga shared irked glances, but regardless Tualga held out her arms and allowed Shum to plop the girl in them.

XXXX

"And I used to have to dress up like a boy y'know."

The trio of women sat at a little round table in the maids quarters. Tualga, who kept giggling at whatever the still drunk Abigale Lynn said, was still trying her best to help snap the girl out of it. While Rheena kept casting the Nord annoyed glances, still hanging onto the idea that Abigale was drugged and not drunk.

"Did you now?" Tualga asked Abigale. "Why'd you have to dress up like a boy?"

Although both older women were slightly annoyed -- Obviously Rheena more than Tualga -- neither complained. Abigale Lynn was most certainly the most quiet girl they had ever met, but when drunk, she let her every secret spill. And for the two who had quickly taken to bonding with the little half-mute, it was quite intriguing.

"Men aren't nice to me." The little Breton lamented. "I dunno why, but they were always mean. I dressed up like a boy to keep em away. I tied down my chest, hid my hair, covered my face in dirt and _always talked like this_!" She concluded in a rather odd and sickly voice. "It didn't always work though. Like when it rained…I hate the rain." She sighed and then quickly perked up again. "But the Count is nice to me! He-he said he would be nice to me forever!"

At this Rheena gave Tualga yet another critical glance, but the Nord only smirked and nudged Rheena's arm playfully. "That's not the alcohol that's making her blush." Tualga snickered. "Never a dull moment with this one eh?"

"Erm…T-Tualga?" Abigale whimpered, suddenly clutching at her stomach. "Can I have the pale back again please?"

"Sure can."

Thankfully, Abigale had yet to toss any cookies, but every so often she would hug the large bucket and mumble incoherently into it. The night was going to be a long one. Both higher ups were left to wonder just how much wine the Count had given her and why. Abigale refused to say anything more other than him being so kind. But they did both end up learning that the girl before them had been in prison once, besides her rather memorable incarceration in castle Skingrad. They even learned that the girl once had ties to the Thieves Guild, which had only been rumored up until now.

They learned much that night, and even as the all tried to sleep Abigale still muttered past events of her life as she dreamed. Unintentionally giving hints to the more depression aspects of her life.

_I am sorry. Help_.

* * *

Authors Notes: This chapter suuuuuckss! XD But I finally threw it all together tonight. You see, I've been writing small snippets of this chapter over the past _month._ I was too busy to do anything more than a sentence or two at the time D: so do forgive me :/ I hope you guys are still following along and enjoying the story. Next chapter will be up soon, now that I am lonely and bored! :D (sadly I can only isolate myself for small amounts of time before my peers come to collect me)…XD

Buuut! Romance is gonna be a brewin in castle Skingrad soon. XD Well, at least it will for one of our key characters. :3

Those who think Janus is getting all weird too quickly, here's some food for thought ^-^ : According to actual vampire lore (not glittering Twilight stuffs) Vampires get obsessive quickly over the thing they find intriguing.

Now, I'm going to bed. Night!

But before I go:

1. She's a light weight XD

2. Anyone else think he should slow it down a bit? I mean she's the first lady he has been around for years but Yesh! XD

3. *Cough* she was a theif remember?

_4. Flirt...pft, vampires :3 _

_5. Smooooooth XDDDDDD_

_6. I told you she was sickly pale. _


	15. Won by Paper

Authors Notes: Hkhrihiaskjfhk I REACHED OVER 100 REVIEWS?! THANKY YOU ALL!~

I LIIIIIIVE! Kinda… *picks up the 360 controller and places Fallout 3 disk into slot* I swear I've been busy! *give scrap metal to Charon* Honest! (you may choose to ignore my excuses, but after you read this chapter you will find my long-winded explanations as to why I have been dead.)

Oh, and this starts off in a dreamy sequence thingy. I just don't like italic-ing more than a few words XD

* * *

Love or Blood

Chapter Thirteen: Won by Paper

xxxx

"Abigale Lynn!" Came the pained cry of my mother late into the evening. "Oh Abigale get in here please! I need you!" I jumped from my bed and rushed to my mother's side as any daughter would. She stunk of stale mead and beer, her red hair was tousled, and her dark eyes were brimming with tears. I felt so ashamed as I looked down on her, I did not even hear her fall.

"I'm here. Where do you hurt?" I went to reach down and help her up but she swatted my hands away.

"Get a bowl, get a bucket! I'm going to be ill." So I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the largest bowl from the cupboard. Usually I would have brought her a pale but her face was so green I feared for time. She had pushed herself onto her now bruised knees and was already retching as I approached. Lucky for me I pushed the bowl in front of her before she became sick on the floor.

I pulled her hair back and squatted behind her, wishing that I could cover my ears as she nosily coughed and sputtered. I always had to close my eyes. It was vile. _She_ was vile, but I loved her enough to care for her, I loved her enough to continue this ritual night after night.

It went on for what felt like hours, to the point that I was nearly sobbing. It wasn't entirely the smell, the noise or sight of it all that made me want to cry, but knowing that my mother had drank so much to make herself so sick again, even though she had just been through this yesterday. Sometimes I wanted to hate her as I choked my sobs down, but I could only pray for her well-being and hold her curly hair away from her face.

When she finished I helped her into an empty bed. My parents bed was hardly ever in use unless it was this time of night, her sick time. My father worked with Anvil patrol, he was one of the best guards the city had ever seen. It's such a shame he had to keep his home life quiet. He would have liked to brag about a beautiful wife and wealthy household as most men do, but our family was anything but that picture. The only thing he constantly bragged about was me, and I hated it.

I turned to leave the room and let my mother sleep off her drunkenness when she grabbed my elbow and pulled me back to her. She was crying again. "Don't leave me Abigale Lynn. Don't abandon me, I'm sick. I need you." I tried to pry myself loose and tell her I would collect the bowl for her when she continued to shout at me, frantically. "NO! Don't leave me! It's my heart that's sick, Hummingbird. My heart! Stay with me."

I could never leave. Even when she stunk now more then ever, even if she disgusted me to the point where I could have spit, I could not leave. So I allowed her to pull me down beside her. I stayed rigid as I laid there next to her and let her sob on my sleeve. It was like having to tend to a needy child. I could only leave when she fell asleep. Tonight though was one of those nights where she just stayed awake and sobbed, squeezing me tighter each time I flinched.

"My beautiful, beautiful, baby." She sniffed as her fingers ran through my hair. I bit my lip each time she touched me to keep from telling her not to. "So pretty… One day you'll marry someone rich and leave me. Leave me to rot away." I wouldn't let myself hear her, I tried to block it out as I stared at the stone ceiling, praying for my older sister to come down here and take charge just once…"You've got yourself a boyfriend yet? I-I heard that," She rubbed her eyes, like a baby, "That the mister Thomas was here again today. I heard that you snuck him in."

"He snuck himself in, mother." I tartly replied, unable to control my tongue. "I have your daughter's children to watch. I don't have time for friends or…or lovers. I am too young. I don't even like him."

And then she laughed, loud and hard into my ear. Her hot and smelly breath running over my face. "I hear about you all the time! You're the prettiest girl in Anvil." She said in a singsong voice. "And the priestesses still want you at the chapel!"

"Only because they needed to throw you out." I grumbled, but she still heard me.

"They've been asking for years so don't get smart with me. Your beautiful, appreciate it. Most girls would kill to look like you."

_Most girls are stupid_, I thought. I didn't have any girls who were my friends, I never did. I used to play with the boys until my responsibilities as an eight-year old babysitter called me away. I didn't need friends, but I would sometimes look out the windows and want one so badly. The only friends I have now where my little brother, two nieces, two nephews, and the men who heard about me from my father and came to collect me for an evening of discomfort. Some were so nice at first, then when we got to my door they would try to weasel there way inside, or at least try to put their hands on me. In a sick sort of way I felt like I deserved it. The men who came to my door came under false pretences. They thought I was looking for a relationship, when I really only went with them to please my father or for my own cowardice; I could never turn them down to their face.

"And you know what?" My mother whispered, "One of these days one of these men are gonna take you away and never let you go."

xxxx

I was alerted awake by a foul odor that was attempting to smother me. It was slightly surprising and appalling to me once I realized the stench was my own breath trapped in the pillow my face was currently buried in. I cringed at myself for it and went to roll on my back to be free of its cloud.

No sooner had I moved did I feel an almost unreal pain in my head. It was, or felt, akin to walking into a stone wall with your head down. I had not expected it any more than I knew what the cause of it was. Nor had I expected myself to yelp at the pain, but I did, and loudly.

My hands flew up to clutch my forehead. I managed to push myself onto my back, only while massaging my temples with tedious care. It was no matter though. My head began to throb angrily; a constant pulsing that had me ready to claw my own scalp apart -- morbidly true. But my discomfort did not end there, I also had body aches that were slowly intensifying with each passing second.

With a groan I reached over to my nightstand and made several attempts to find the small flint box. Once it was found I tried my best to light the candle. I had no idea as to why I had just become sick. I tried to remember if I ate anything strange as the wick gently began to burn. My belly felt a little funny but I could think of nothing odd that I had recently consumed. Even so, the contents of my stomach rolled and swished like a shaken bucket of water, lapping at the edges of my sanity. _How_ did I become so ill?

As I mused, movement of the shadows caught my eye and I looked up. Tualga was there, sitting on her bed with a copy of the Black Horse Courier in one hand, and a cup of what smelt like coffee in the other. I took quick notice of Rheena's absents, which was probably due to the coffee smell. Usually they would both be doing something in the dark: reading or knitting, their eyes had become so accustom to the horrid lighting in this place. Nevertheless I was so thankful to see her there in that downy blue nightdress.

"Tu-Tualga--" I cut myself off with a groan and fell back to my previous position and laid flat. I didn't mean to make my sudden sickness known yet. I like to fight these things off by myself, which is to say pretending that I don't have one. If you don't act sick you soon forget that you are, and in the process you get better quicker.

Surprisingly though she snickered. I had first thought it was at something in the paper or my constant yelping, but when I saw her shoot me a sidewise glance before turning the courier page I had a strange feeling she knew something I did not. "Well, well, Lynn, nice to see you join the living again…How's your head?"

Even as I stared at the ceiling now my eyes narrowed. She did something, or at least knew something. "My head is terrible. _What_ happened?"

She clucked her tongue at me, still scanning the paper. "You don't remember? That's a sad thing miss Lynn. I had thought you enjoyed yourself." I heard her slurping up her coffee. The sound was making me feel nauseous, I had half a mind to join Rheena. I would have too but I could only keep my eyes open for so long, never mind actually walking.

This realization made me groan again. At one point in the day I was going to have to get up, I had a manor to clean. The Count would not be pleased if I skipped my work. I don't think I am even allowed to consider it. In order to help fight off my sudden ailment I was going to need to know how I got it and if it could be spread -- which I doubt, seeing as Tualga knew there was something wrong with me before I told her so. "My head," I finally mumbled aloud, "It hurts so badly, Tualga. What happened, did I fall? Did someone hit me?"

She placed the porcelain mug on her nightstand with a smirk and knowing look, her eyes on the cup. "_Well _Rheena thinks the Count did."

_Huh?_

"The Count?…" It took a moment to digest what she had said, but when the words sunk in I gasped. My hands flew up to my face once again and I hurriedly began to feel for any forming bruise. "The Count hit me?!" I shrieked. "Good Gods, what did I do to deserve that?"

"No no!" She laughed, flying up to grab my wrists and stop me from prodding at myself. The courier fell into a heap on the floor. "It's a joke! You know, a naughty-ha-ha."

I only stared up at her for a moment, blankly. Once I got the 'joke' my mouth and mood turned more sour. Thankfully I couldn't even picture it. That would not do to face the Count with nasty images in my mind. But all the same…

"That," I finally growled, "Is _vile_." I spat the words rather than said them. I felt a little sorry for snapping at her but she and Rheena should keep their gutter-minds to themselves. Not to mention the blush now forming on my cheeks was making me feel sicker. My temperature could rise from it for all I know, and I don't want her seeing me blush over something like that. If she and Rheena get anymore ideas…oh please let the Nine be real and help me.

"Aren't you a cranky one!" She continued to laugh, only nursing my migraine of Oblivion, but thankfully letting go of my hands. "I would've never thought I'd see a day where little Lynn would turn bitter."

"You are instigating it." I bit my lip, my face was still burning. I don't like it when people talk like that, especially when I am in the conversation. Sex, as all may know, is a mystery to me and I want it to remain that way forever. Furthermore, what would the Count say if he heard something like that being said from the higher standing maids? Just thinking about it makes my stomach flutter. "I-I think I have a fever." I announced, desperately trying to change the subject. "Could you please get me a cool cloth? I'm sure I will feel much better after a bit more rest--"

She suddenly barked out another unsought of laughs, to the point where she doubled over and held her stomach. "Fever? Girl you've got yourself a hangover! Ya drank too much fancy wine, silly!"

At this point I had to be dreaming so I closed my eyes tightly. "I don't drink. My mother was a drunk so I do not drink ever. Please don't associate me with that foul brew."

"You really don't believe me?" I shook my head. "Well then hear this, I'll make you believe: In the Imperial City you were accosted by the guards and men. You ended up dressing like a boy and calling yourself Gale to keep them at bay. Somewhere along the line you met a young Argonian named Amusie, or something like that, and he helped you out. You and him traveled to Bravil, stole some stuff, and _you_ got caught." She scratched her head. "The rest is a bit vague. You said something about a Khajiit helping you out, but before that you mentioned something about the Counts son--"

"Stop!" I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. _How does she know so much?_ "Please say no more I believe you but…" An imaged flashed of myself being thrown onto a cot in a cold, dank, cell in Bravil's infamous dungeon. A nasty rich boy in green trying to take my clothes off until a pink bottle fell from his pocket and smashed to the floor, which I got blamed and beaten by him for. At least he was mad enough to loose his lust and let me be. "I didn't say anymore then that did I?" I asked desperately. If they knew any of that I would be ashamed for the rest of my days.

"Nope." She smiled, and I was thankful that she overlooked the tears prickling my eyes. This was the most horrid day I had in a long time. At least I knew that it was my own liquor breath that gave me nightmares. Maybe I'll sleep peacefully tomorrow morning.

xxxx

Our quarters are mainly empty at this time in the day. Several maids flittered through to get some supper before heading off to home or back to work. The butler made several passes by as well today. He checked on me, which I was a little embarrassed about, as I was still in my nightdress. I had not changed and had no intentions to do so until last minute. My hair was a mess, my feet were bare, and I had breadcrumbs up and down my nightgown.

Rheena insisted for me to eat bread. _So_ much bread and water, I felt ready to pop. But it was helping me very much, my pains had all nearly vanished; only my head pain remained. Thankfully, it too was duller then when I first awoke. Rheena and Tualga both told me that the bread helps by absorbing the alcohol in my system. According to Tualga I had not 'tossed my cookies'. The wine was left inside me to wreak havoc through the night.

I cannot even imagine how much I drank. I can barley remember anything that happened last night. The only small fragments I can recall is myself talking. Drawling on about one thing or another. I also think I may have done something very embarrassing. I wish I could bring whatever it was to my mind, therefore, I might be able to apologize for it later. Goodness, I hope I did not fall in front of the Count…

The Count. Needless to say, I am not too excited about going to see him tonight. If anything it will be worse than whatever it was I went through the previous evening. No matter what, I shall not drink any wine. I want to remember what I do from now on. I already must look bad to him; he probably sees me as a drunkard.

But I promise myself today that I will no longer be a dulled girl in his view. If he cares enough to offer me wine then I should at least act thankful, and I will.

XXXX

He frowned upon her form tonight, much like he did every night. This time though his frown was deeper. It set heavily in his features and made him look more exasperated than usual -- which was quite the feat to achieve.

It was her face, _Rona's_ face. How it made him want to cry. She looked so ill, she _was_ ill, but this was to the point that even her still technically living state seemed unnatural. Her skin was pulled so tightly across her bones he feared it would crack under his touch -- all the more reason to refrain from doing so. Those once pink lips were now a sickly pale purple, a small bump was visible on either side of her mouth where her fangs lay, and her eyes were set so deeply into her scull that from a distance it looked like she had none. Even her hair, once a chocolate brown, had lost most of its color. Each strand of it was fine and brittle; the ones who cared for her had to be exceptionally careful with it. Then again, they had to be careful with every part of her.

Janus looked at everything and soaked it in against his will. Each day she seemed worse and it killed him to watch her wither before his eyes, but he had to know, he had to remember. It was his fault that her skin had receded so far back on her fingers that it made her nails looked frighteningly long. It was his fault that she was no longer a pretty alabaster shade, not even an undead pale, but a sickly grey. It was his fault that the once beautiful and proud Countess was now a specter of her own castle.

Old and withered, but he loved her still.

Over the past few years the guilt had begun to build up inside him until it was painful. He ached when he looked at her or thought of her.

Absently, his eyes wandered over to the soft velvet dress she wore. It was plain, but pretty. In order for her caretakers to dress her the gown could not be very elaborate. It was always a simple slip on, or lace up, dress. Today she wore an orange-red gown, like autumn leaves. A simple cream-colored lace pattern circled the sleeves and collar. It wound around her wrist and neck like many little vines. He never really cared for such a color but he liked it today. A warm color, like that orange on a monarch butterfly.

Butterflies…he suddenly wanted to leave, he had overstayed his welcome.

XXXX

The color of that insect made something in his mind tick. It meant something to him but he could not remember why. That orange-red color pestered him all the way out of Rona's chambers. Even as he closed the secret entrance and wound his way back into the castle through the various hidden passages it nagged at him. Janus could not understand it. Perhaps he got another letter from that popular corner floral shop begging him to invest so they could rid the store of insects?…Did they even sell flowers at this time of year? It was almost Frostfall…

He did not know. It was of little importance regardless, but it was as aggravating, if not more so as having a name on the tip of your tongue. As he walked he ran his hand against the cool stone wall of his chamber, much wishing that Rona had been in grey so that he could have dismissed this silly notion off as something easy.

But only when he stepped out of his room, walked down the hallway, and saw a certain red-head girl with her back turned to him did her remember what that color was linked to.

_Ah…that hair. _

xxxx

I most certainly do not want to be here now. I would much rather eat _another_ loaf of bread. At least my body no longer aches. If it were I may not have shown up at all, thus confirming my likely doom. I wanted more than anything to crawl into bed again, but my countless naps today will have probably robbed me of sleep tonight. I am not looking forward to that now either.

I pull the little silver key from the manor's lock but did not yet turn to set off. I sighed instead, placing my elbow to the door and put my face in my hand. Even with my cold fingertips at my brow the pain did not dull. It was nowhere near as bad as it was this morning, thankfully, but it was still enough to make me want to whine aloud. That, of course, I have no intention of doing. If the Count is around, which he usually is, then I am to be on my best behavior. He is good to me and I'll be good to him. No more jitters, stutters, and shakes. No. I shall be a lady, not a girl frightened by any shadow.

So I inhale and straighten. Head pain be darned, I will face the evening like I always have. But this time, I'll be more confident while doing so.

With a puffed out chest and erect back I turned, only to realize that I was not alone in the hallway. A silhouette of a man stood not even five feet away from me. Like a squashed blowfish I deflated and toppled backwards, into the door, then unto my bottom. The 'silhouette' shook his head and shot me a look of disgust. I knew it was the Count even as I fell but my body always had to act of its own accord and leave me in a ashamed heap. I am not a clumsy girl by any means, but if I am frightened or lost in thought, I am the biggest bumble in all of Tamerial.

My topple to the floor seemed to last forever, dragging on as dreadful things often do. And when I finally hit the stone with a soft thump, a jolt of pain ran up my spine and to my head. I was going to gasp, I knew I was, so I bit my lip to stifle it and only ended up making a high-pitched humming noise instead.

I wordlessly cursed the lighting of the Count's manor and his silent nature as I stared up at the now visible royal spectator. The urge to just hang my head in shame was there but this time I did not give into it. I met his eyes and swallowed hard. Blood pumped feverishly through my body and made me hot with embarrassment, but I tried not to show it. Once I was ready to stand The Count's voice cut through our usual silence with blatant venom. "Must you be so awkward?"

He did not offer me a hand to rise with, but I had not expected him to. I straightened the ruffles in my skirt as I stood. It was obvious he had been in a foul mood before my spill, and my idiocy just made it worse. I wished his moods weren't so rocky. I understand that…_vampires_, should often get angry snaps but I wish there was some type of sign for all of us innocent bystanders beforehand. It would nice to be out of the line of his fire.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord. You startled me." Although I just had one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, I was still bent on behaving. I messed up, yes, but I shall fix it. "Forgive my foolish reaction." For some odd reason he stiffened. Perhaps he was shocked by my fluency. I did not know, but I did not want him to be tense, I preferred loose anger to anxious restraint for obvious reasons…no, no don't think like that! "I-I did not see you. I did not expect you to be so close."

"I did not expect you to be so early." He countered, this time taking me aback. And then it was quiet. My head was under even more amounts of strain as I forced myself to put my thoughts into actual sentences. However, just as I was about to ask him what happened last night he asked me a question first. "How is your head?"

I blinked and reached up to touch my temple. "It hurts…" My words held the unasked question. I wanted to know why it hurt and how he knew. If Tualga was telling the truth, if I really did have wine with the Count through all hours of the night, why is he looking at me the way he is? Such…contempt. I know falling in his presence is bad manners, but I did bleed out in front of him before and he looked more contrite than mad then. If I can pass this off, then why cant he? Oh I must have done something dreadful last night.

XXXX

He looked at her, just looked at her. Soaked her in as he had done with Rona earlier. He watched her fall and watched her stand with a fixed fascination. It was strange for him to see such a graceful child be so scatterbrained. One minute she was whishing about the halls like a dancer on the floor, the next, when frightened, she crumbled into a fidget mess, a living statue of herself. It was hard to understand the inner workings of her logic. Moreover, did she have any? The way her eyes always looked calculating, the way they always darted about and scanned forced him to believe she did.

When he looked upon her blushed face as she stood he could not help but to envy her youth, her life. His beloved Rona was left to collect dust while this silly girl made a fool of herself in her home. Rona was not graceful like the girl before him, but she would have never fallen. He had never even seen her so much as slip. Rona always carried herself like any Imperial woman should, but this little half-breed before him could not even grasp the proper way to speak, never mind walk. Rona would have also insisted that he lent her a hand to stand with, this one rose on her own once again while sporting that wounded pride and rubicund face.

If the Countess was to have seen this girl she would laugh hardily but help to teach her proper etiquette. Janus, on the other hand, would not have devoted all his time to her as Rona would have done, but at least making an effort. Last night proved to be a success and he might have helped encourage that same openness if he could bring himself to care. But, he could not.

When he looked at his servant and thought of Rona he could only compare the two and point out the maids imperfections…but was it right to? Was it right to compare the two women, and why did he feel the need? Lack of companionship perhaps. He had been so used to Rona that having another lady suddenly thrust into his life made him notice things. Not that the two were entirely different, the did share some similarities like their love for books and long hair…

"It hurts…" The maid confirmed with an air of suspicion.

Janus nodded and tried to ignore that prominent gleam in her eyes. "I would think so."

She lowered her hand from her temple and brought it to her breast, attempting to rub some remnants of dust from the shirts fabric. It was obvious that she was only trying to divert her attention on something else as she continued to casually question him. "Do you…know why that is, exactly?"

Oh-ho, what's this now? It was an understatement to say that he was surprised she was actually prying him for answers. He had a feeling she drank enough last night to knock the memories out of her, not that there was anything to remember really, aside from her flashing him…

"Don't you know?" He countered. "I thought you would remember surely." He was bating her, half to get her to talk and half to get his mind off more depression matters, those of which he wanted to forget, if only for now.

"But I do not." If the look on her face was anything to go by, she didn't like this game. "Please sir, could you tell me?" The curtly nodded and turned, beckoning her to follow him as they talked. He had 'things' to tend to in his study. Besides, standing and fidgeting could only sit for so long with him.

"You came to me in hopes of apologizing for your behavior. But, as I expected, you could barley speak, and when you did it was inaudible." They wandered down the hallway together as he talked. The constant pitter-pattering of her feet as she attempted to keep up with him was only a _slight _distraction.

Once they reached the study he let his hands fall from behind his back and went to grab the door's latch. However, as he went to push it open the wood developed a mind of its own and swung inward before him. The Count flexes his fingers and looked down at them, wondering briefly if he had set off a spell unknowingly. Only when the little pale hand out of the corner of his eye presented itself did he blink, and realize that _she_ was holding the door open.

"Of course." He acknowledged, feeling oddly uneasy about her opening doors for him, and proceeded inside. "So," He continued after hearing the click of the lock behind them. "In order to make you more comfortable I offered you a drink, which you accepted." Janus made his way over to his alchemy desk and began fiddling with the equipment while he spoke. Checking the alembic's temperature was vital at this stage of his current project. Thereafter a brief adjustment he continued. "Whenever you asked for more I filled your glass. You became more comfortable around me with each sip. It would have been wrong of me to ignore your request for more." He laughed weakly as he turned away from the retort he was currently bent over. "You are quite chatty when…" Abruptly, his voice trailed of once he realized just how close the girl was standing beside him. He swallowed, more uneasy than ever over her strange behavior. "Inebriated." Janus turned again and prodded aimlessly away at the heating glass.

"Then what happened?" She asked anxiously and moved nearer, standing so close behind him that he could feel her warm breath hit his earlobe. "W-what did I do or say? Was it bad? Did I do anything?" Paranoia had to be the peak of this girls mountain of weaknesses. She shriveled under everything, but fear made up of her own suspicion drove her past all reserve. She was barley a foot away for Julianous's sake! Yet she still did shrink once he finally turned to face her. It was a bit unnerving to have someone breathing down your neck, especially if you were facing a desk, cornered. Not that she was breathing heavy, but he wasn't used to it, and worse it made him feel…_odd_.

"No, nothing bad." He answered tightly. "I assure you nothing of interest happened. You simply opened up, and said what you wished." He forced a smile and stepped around her, keeping her wedged by the desk instead. "You were very friendly." Too friendly. "I do not see a reason why you should be so worried. Possibly afraid of letting something slip?"

And with that her lips buttoned again. Now that he was no longer wedged between the girl and the equipment, he saw a wonderful opportunity to question her. If he played his cards right he would not have to pry too much, she would assume that she said things last night.

Janus folded his arms across his chest and tapped his thumb against his chin thoughtfully, saying only one word: "Biencourt?" (1)

xxxx

The blood froze in my veins and thus turned my body to stone. I stared up at him and shook my head back and forth slowly, all the while cursing my big eyes that did not want to shut even a little. Biencourt. It haunted me like a ghost. Could I not even be free of broken ties here? I thought I was safe, and yet he knows of me, of my _family_!

I went to leave, I turned quickly, only to have my hip strike the corner of the Count's desk. I hissed in pain, and went to massage it, noting that I had cornered myself between the Count and his desk without even realizing it. I was going to have to act like a proper lady now against my will. It's for the best, I know, but that does not mean I am supposed to enjoy my torment.

When I looked back to the Count I was thankful when I realized he had not noticed my sudden escape attempts. I believe I have him under the impression that I am clumsy. It works for my benefit in some ways…

All the same, I found myself wishing that he was not a vampire right then and there. I wished he was just a mortal man, maybe then my chances to flee from this discussion would be greater. You cannot push your way past a vampire and hope to come out okay, it is foolish even to think so.

"I…I do not know what you're talking about, sir."

"You know," The Count began quietly, "It is really rather distressing to hear you lie when you are standing so close to me. Barley three feet away." I swallowed hard but remained very quiet as he continued. "It is refreshing too. Seems to me that you have finally gained some courage. I might have praised you for that, but it does not sit well with me to know that you can lie right to my face." He gave a strained, smarmy smile, it looked…cocky but playful and scary as well. His eyes flicked to my collarbone, "Your heat is loud. It always is when I am around, it will give you away every time you attempt to trick me." My hand instinctively went to my chest and settled there, like I was trying to muffle the beat somehow. "Pity. Here I thought you were an honest girl."

"But I am!" I exclaimed, taking a step forward, then immediately taking a step back when I remembered who I was talking to. "Please believe me I-I…I." The heat was quickly rising to my cheeks at the peculiar look in his eyes. It made my voice fade and head bow. _Speak Abigale, speak! Be a lady. _"I'm sorry, my Lord."

I could feel him looking at me, watching me, and I hated it. My eyes burned, my face felt blistered, I had never been so humiliated. But why? The situation wasn't bad or terrible, just tense. I could fix it, he said I was getting courage, I don't want him to regret saying that.

My head felt like burdened-brick when I lifted it to look up at him. My lips trembled when I went to speak, which was a tell-tale sign that I would surely die of embarrassment if anything else like this arose. "I will tell you what you want. I'll be honest, sir. Please, please I-"

"There is no reason to beg. Quite frankly, I prefer if you didn't." He interjected. "I am not blind. A fool could tell this is not a desirable topic for you. But as your…_employer_, I have every right to ask these questions, whether or not they are uncomfortable ones." He lowered a hand and placed it on the desk's smooth surface. "I merely wish to understand. I want to know how you were able to lie to me the first night you were here and get away with it. And, of course, as an authority figure, I need the truth. You went missing several years back and were declared _dead_. Correct? Why is this?"

…

"D-dead…?" I echoed, knees growing weaker as I too now held the desk. My mind reeled, and I felt cold. "They all think I'm dead?"

XXXX

_Oops._

The Count swallowed, feeling utterly sheepish, and watched the girl place a hand to her brow and stare at the floor. Her naturally peachy-pale skin had turned blue, a rather frightening shade at that.

The way she blinked, shook her head, griped the desk, and continued staring at the floor made Janus very nervous. He was startled at the idea of her fainting. If she did what would he do? Leave her on the floor and call the butler? That wouldn't be very nice of him but he would not touch her, so what other choice would he have? But there was another thing the girl could do besides fall unconscious, something equally horrible, and that's crying. What on Nirn would he do then? Saying he was sorry wouldn't do any good. He honestly thought the girl knew what became of her family, or at least knew the outcome of her disappearance.

Had he expected too much from her again, or had he been hoping that she staged her death? If she did it would have given him the right to question her further and not feel guilty for it. Either way…oops.

"You cannot go missing for five years and expect people to think differently." He swallowed hard, trying to find the best way to apologize without actually doing it. He was indeed sorry but for pities sake five _years_? No one would think she was still alive after five years, would they? "I assumed you knew."

"How would I have known?" Came the quick yet soft response. Oh Gods, did he hear sobs rising in her voice? It wasn't good. The Count did not, nor know how, to deal with a weeping girl.

"It's not so bad." He nearly stammered. "I am willing to do many things for you. I can help with this situation, but you must talk with me. I need facts, no more well-planned lies. If you do this for me, with me, I will be more than glad to discuss some form of action to correct this awful misunderstanding."

When she finally did look up to him her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Just _how_ many time was he going to make this girl cry without meaning to? It was almost comical. "A-action?" She sniffled, bringing up her wrist to dab at the corner of her eyes. Thankfully, for the Count, the cloth from her sleeve caught any tears that may have fallen. It made him feel a little less cruel. "What do you mean, sir? What more can be done?"

Relief washed over him. Just by her showing interest in his proposition made him feel so much better. "I promised I would be kind to you." Janus proclaimed, catching the girl off guard. "I intend to make good on that promise. Sit with me." The girl remembered no such promise, having nearly been out of her wits on wine the previous evening. She tensed at his offer, hunching her shoulders, and looked to the door. The Count was only troubled by this a little, but he promised himself that this would be the last time she would rather leave to wallow in shame alone then be his company. "Please?" He insisted, secretly knowing that she would fall to 'please'. She was just that type of girl, politeness would grant him anything with her.

As expected, she came, hesitating for only a moment, then agreeing with a grim nod.

xxxx

"Tell me your name. Your full, _real_, name."

It was Bravil all over again. It was my interrogation here all over again. What else could I do but except it though? I had to comply, I had to answer everything. What's worse though is that I knew from the look on the Count's face that this was going to be far more invasive. It would start out easy, but it would go on…I was horrified. What was he going to ask?

"A-Abigale Lynn, Rechelle, Biencourt." (1)

He stared me down while I uttered every syllable. My heart thundered in my chest at this. I wanted him to look away from me, but I knew he would not.

"It's a long name." He smiled, as though he were attempting to be humorous. "Now, I need to know your parents names, their races, occupations. Anything about them would be most helpful."

I wanted to protest, to claim that they were not my parents anymore, but I knew he would have none of that. So, with another shaky breath, I told him about my parents. I was discussing the two people I have not spoken about, or thought about in years. "M-my father was a Breton. He…His name is Claude Biencourt. He was a guard in Anvil. My father patrolled the city, sir."

The Count nodded slowly, fingers laced in his lap, eyes never leaving my face. "And your mother?"

"Tertia Biencourt. She was a healer at the chapel of…Dibella." I flushed and grumbled out the name of that supposed Goddess. Apparently, I was to become a priestess there as well. The members would not leave me alone. It only fueled my hate toward the Gods. Especially for the reason that they only wanted me to join because I looked how a priestess of Dibella _should _look. They were so fickle, so vain, my stomach rotted at the very thought of just praying with them. "My mother is an Imperial. Her maiden name was Doran."

"Did you get your hair from her? Mothers pass the hair traits down but Bretons are fairer."

I blinked. _My hair? _I knew he was trying to lighten the mood a bit, which struck me as odd. I know he enjoys teasing me but asking questions like that are so informal. We are not familiars, I am not supposed to act familiar with him. He is initiating this conversation though, and he is the Count, whatever he says I must go by. So does that make this a proper conversation because he was the one to start it? Does that make it okay?

_Oh for goodness sake, it is just my hair._

"Yes. Her's was very curly though."

"Hmm. Did you have any siblings?"

At this my jaw set into place very firmly. I could hardly see how this was going to help either of us at all. He said he was going to do something for me, but making me think about the family who believes me to be dead is just making my life worse, and wasting his time too. "My sister's name is Nicolette, she is several years older than me. A-and my younger brother's name is Guillaume."

The Count suddenly quirked his brow at me. I nervously licked my lips, wondering what I had said, or done, wrong. "_Guillaume_?" He repeated, stating my little brother's name fluently, but with all the acidity of a potion gone bad.

"William. I-I mean William, my lord. I'm very sorry. I did not know you didn't speak…I just assumed-"

"I do know how to speak Breton. What strikes me as strange is that you do." He leaned in close again, he always does that to me when we sit or stand together. "What else can you do?"

I bowed my head. "Nothing, my lord. I cannot even hold a full conversation in my native tongue." I bit my lower lip again, and wondered briefly how much more of this I could take. I berate myself with just about every other word, and he wont stop looking at me, my headache is coming back with each second...I just want to go to bed again.

I wish I was a vampire. I could sleep forever and not have to care or answer for anyone. Just a black, warm, abyss where I could flounder for eternity and never have to think of my old family again. That would be lovely right now.

"Alright. You want to get this over with, so be it." The Count sighed, settling back in his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about what he should ask me first, but as he did this I found myself comfortable. Without him staring at me so I relaxed, and in turn I could be the one studying him. It was a nice change, but once he opened his eyes again I looked away and nervously fiddled with my hair. "There are rumors you went to prison before coming to Skingrad. Is there any truth to these rumors, and if so, what were you incarcerated for?"

"How could you possibly know so much?" I asked without thinking or looking at him. As usual, I scolded myself inwardly for being rude and peeked up at him from beneath my eyelashes, to make sure he was not fuming with rage.

Thankfully though, he only smirked at me in an unkind way. "Yesterday you were so open to me," He positioned his chin on the back of his hand. "I do miss it. To be brutally honest, I prefer you drunk." I looked away, unable to keep the haughtiness out of the turn of my head, and only bit my tongue. "Going by your reaction though, I take that as a yes, you went to prison. Now what was it for? Why were you charged?"

I flushed out of anger and embarrassment. I did not want to answer him but I never have exactly wanted to. Regardless, he is my Count, and he is holding information that could be valuable to me. I cannot let this pass me by because of my natural behavior. But all that aside though, I have no right to give him any type of attitude. So away with my pride if I want to please him and act like a lady, which I do.

I swallowed. This is terribly embarrassing. "Armed robbery."

The Count snorted, and passed a hand across his face as if in attempts to catch his laughter. "You? _You _attempted to rob someone? How could you have possibly have hoped to accomplish that?"

I tried to imagine what the Count was seeing in his mind. Me: shaking franticly with a dagger to some man's throat while saying 'please give me all your money now mister'. Hardly terrifying, I know, but it was indeed funny in retrospect.

I smiled and tried to keep my snickering at bay. What he was envisioning, Gods know, probably isn't even close to what actually happened or how horribly wrong it went. Now though when I look back it's horribly funny…in a grim way. Regardless, I was soon biting my lip just to hold my laughter. I am so small and weak, trying to imagine me menacingly wielding a dagger is more difficult than imagining an intelligent cow.

XXXX

"I am allowing you to decide what should be done." Janus told her. After explaining the situation further to the girl, he could tell that this would have led to a lengthy debate between the two of them. The best course of action for him was to grant her the right to decide. This was her family and he, truthfully, did not care for such affairs. Nope. He just wanted her happy, and to achieve that he was going to have to learn to be lenient. "I will not be giving you any sort of time limitations but I do advice you to hurry. The sooner this matter is dealt with the better."

With that he stood. It all had been handled as painlessly as possible, and once he made her laugh -- what a little laugh it was -- she seemed more agreeable to answer him. Not that he asked much, just little things that could turn to be useful at a later date.

She blinked up at him for a moment, possibly confused at the abrupt dismissal, but eventually stood as well. As was her habit she straightened her skirts, placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and bade him farewell. The Count felt strangely betrayed by her mainly silent departure, and followed after her in a most perverse way.

"Will you be going to the library?" He asked her back, feeling unreasonably awkward.

The girl turned to stare at him with a very puzzled expression. "Why should I my lord? Do you wish me to?" He opened his mouth to answer her but closed it once he realized she had forgotten all about their little deal.

Janus chuckled, mentally tacking off never giving the girl an alcoholic beverage again, then finally answered. "I told you yesterday that you could take a book from my library, read it, and replace it with another when its finished. Do you not remember this?" Of course she didn't, but he just could not keep himself from teasing her.

"I…" She watched him for a moment, as though she was trying to find some sort of flaw or alternate motive in what he had told her. When the realization finally came, she beamed, much like she did the previous evening when receiving this news.

The Count could share after all.

"You are letting me use the library? I…why? No, I-I mean thank you."

"You should hurry before I change my mind." She hesitated at the door. "Be sure to pick whatever you like." She bit her lip. "I insist." Still more fidgeting. The girl would not budge. Was his generosity making her uncomfortable?

…"Would you like me to accompany you? I could monitor what you are taking that way."

She nodded and the Count led the way to the library.

* * *

Authors Notes: GAHHH~ I wrote STUFF?! (You can feel free to leave now. Thanks for reading this craptastic chapter! XD)

1. HOW THE HECK DID I SPELL THAT WRONG BEFORE WHEN I'M FRENCH? D8

Okay, here goes my explanation.

FALLOUT 3 (UGHHHH YES!)

IT'S TO COLD TO FUNCTION (I'm the littlest person in my house. The rest of my family members are…bigger than me XD They refuse to turn the heat up. My days consist of me hiding under the covers of my bed while eating large quantities of junk in the hopes that I may build up fat to survive the winter D8)

CHARON (…yes.)

SCHOOL (I actually like school… O.o)

MISTER BURKE (EXCELLENT)

DRAWING (Um…yeah.)

So there you have it. DON'T HIT ME!

The next chapter is going to be…different. Flashbacks from none other than our favorite stewardess. Am_ong other things. _


	16. Forward

Love or Blood

Chapter Fourteen: Forward

xxxx

The dusty smell of time invaded my nostrils as I held the book to my breast. The corridors seemed brighter and the entire world felt better. I relished the feeling of the book's roughened leather beneath my fingertips. It made me smile. It made me feel content. I had not felt this way in so long that it was quite surprising. Perhaps it was baffling; what one little act of kindness can do.

My steps never had such a bounce to them -- at least I could not remember them feeling this way. It was all so delightful.

I realize that I may be too easy to please but regardless of the fact, I am so very happy. The Count is the most wonderful, generous and caring man in all Nirn. If not for him I would not have a roof over my head, food in my belly, song in my heart and book in my arms. Everything I have I owe to him, he is my savior in so many ways. How strange it is now to look back upon our first encounter. Knowing how frightened I was of his pointy fangs, red eyes and great stature is all rather amusing. But it's also all too unreasonable to entertain. How foolish and fickle I was. So obstinate and quick to viciously judge him for what he is. I am deeply ashamed for the way I reacted, I hope to one day rectify this somehow.

Being the charitable man he is, I have been given two days to make a decision on what I feel should be done regarding my family. The Count was not going to give me any sort of time frame at first but after some consideration we both thought it would be best. I don't want to dwell on this forever. Although it may not have yet been a day, I already know what needs to be done. I have quickly drawn together my conclusion on the best course of action: I shall do nothing.

It may seem harsh for me and what's left of my family but I cannot bring myself to tear open old wounds. Furthermore, I won't do anything that will create problems for the Count. He says it would be no trouble at all but he does not know my family. If my father knew I was alive he would set off to fetch me. He would pay whatever bounty with what he could and try his hardest to see me released. My father is a persistent man and always has been. I know he would come up here and fight for me. I also know that he would eventually discover my place in this castle. That alone is enough to keep me from writing them. If my father ever found out I was a slave for another person, especially a male vampire…oh his heart would break. I can't bear to think of it.

Not to mention my mother. Fickle, fickle woman. The more depressing matter with my mother is that she would be happy for me. She would be elated to find that her daughter was under the 'employment' of the wealthiest Count in all the land. Regardless of what I was doing to earn said position. I could be whoring myself to the entire castle and she would not bat a condescending lash my way. Her overwhelming greed grew when she had a bottle in hand. But I cannot berate my own mother for loving gold -- it's only human.

I will leave it at that for now. My heart aches when I think of my family; I miss them terribly. What I wouldn't give to see them…but I am a grown woman now and I know what's best. Let me keep the past where it belongs. Let me be so selfish as to not send them an explanation. Let me stay far from our old quagmires and hope to never have to glance at them again.

I'm done brooding on this for now. It has only been a day, I need not rush my decision even if I have already mentally finalized it.

XXXX

The Count looked toward the clock mounted on the wall and smiled. It was almost that time again and he was eagerly anticipating the company for a change. Everything went exceptionally well last night in his view. After the few uncomfortable situations -- which he _so _deftly came out of -- all went acceptably. He liked his newest servant better than he thought he would. As a matter of fact, the more he thought about her, the more delighted he became.

There was only little more than a half-hour before her arrival and he needed to compose himself. If he simply stared and smiled at her the way he was now she would surely think he had gone mad. Though it was her fault his usual lackluster enthusiasm had altered into true interest. After all, who on Nirn would actively seek out a book about the Daedric Prince Sheogorath? She did openly express her curiosity for the Daedra to him once she was facing a bookshelf, but out of all the other candidates she choose Sheogorath…It made him wonder.

After she had selected this book however, she voiced her deepest thanks and promised it back to him that same time tomorrow. He insisted that she keep it longer. How one could even hope to finish such a thick tome of madness in one night baffled him. _Is that even healthy?_ But the way she floated from the room kept his lips pressed and tongue in check. Of course he _did_ own her so he could say whatever he damned well pleased. Nonetheless, Janus was not a heartless man, nor was he out to cause anymore discomfort to the girl than he already had. So he let her have a moment and only smiled.

Needless to say if she did intend to keep her promise by finishing the book and bringing it back he did worry for her sanity. The Mad God was certainly an interesting character and his servant was equally so. It was a good quality he supposed, but he gathered she was also quite impressionable too. He hoped she didn't come back spewing nonsense at him.

XXXX

Hal-Liurz closed the book before her and sighed heavily. The recent turn of events and shifting atmosphere of the castle had robbed her of the ability to concentrate. Although it had been a slow day the minor chores she had done left her dazed and tired. Her brow creased as she stared out the little window of her room, the current storm catching her attention. The rain struck the glass with such force Hal-Liurz wouldn't have been surprised if it shattered.

With another sigh she stood, placed the book back in its proper place and left her room. The Stewardess enjoyed roaming the halls at night rather than walk them during the day. It was quieter, peaceful and just what she needed as medicine for the end of another relentless week.

She made her way to the servants quarters, thinking all he while. She admired the architecture as she strolled and tried her best to remember what the castle looked like when she was a girl.

The manor itself had undergone many changes in just her lifetime alone. The walls were once lined with stunning stained-glass windows and tapestries. Now hollow archways were the only reminder of how the halls used to look before the windows became 'obsolete' and a health hazard. While the tapestries - most of them having been from the Countesses dowry - were locked away. The poor Count couldn't bear to look at them. She gave another weary sigh, her mood matching the bitter cold weather.

Even when deep within the castle's chambers the stewardess could hear the rain. It pounded the solid outer walls with a fury no other storm could match. She doubted any other another could, anyway. And whenever Hal-Liurz doubted something she was usually right to do so. She was nearly always right about everything. Tasks, mundane as dishes or floral arrangements, would be played out in her head. She would predict the outcome, and at the end of the day it would _be _the outcome.

That was just the way it always worked.

So as she made her way down the dark, winding stairwell she contemplated this. Being right all the time was grimly satisfying. Their was no surprise and no excitement in her life, it had been this way since she left her girlhood behind.

She was used to the grey days that seemed to drag on forever, the days that passed so quickly that all became a whirlwind of colors in her memory, and the days of warmth and laughter. She felt like she lived it all, that the only thing left to do was drag her feet to an undertaker.

At least that was how it used to be.

Months before that was her life and she accepted it. Hal-Liurz was actually quite content with her existence and how she presumed it would end. That though, was months before. Now, everything was different. The very first time she laid eyes on that little red-haired girl she knew all would change. Sure enough, that child brought up a whole new bag of _fun _with her when she made her appearance in castle Skingrad.

Abigale Lynn (a name so sickeningly sweet that the stewardess had to hold back a cough when saying it) was a good girl. She was quiet, obedient, graceful, and the Count had put the fear of God into her so she should remain that way.

But did Hal-Liurz think she would stay like that? No, of course not. It was only a matter of time before Abigale Lynn was bounding up and down the corridors doing Gods knew what or Gods knew who.

Her assumption wasn't meant to be an insult; it was just a basic fact. Every girl is born curious. That curiosity blooms and bubbles when being introduced to new environments or people. And although the girl seemed shy, Hal-Liurz could see that very curiosity reflecting in her eyes. An innocent desire to explore and learn, to feel and absorb everything. And the Count, being a man, was going to zone in on that faster than a troll to meat.

It wasn't the _nicest _way to put it but the stewardess was never one for polite analogies. Knowing this all though made Hal-Liurz's stomach squirm in the most unnecessary manner.

She grumbled at herself and pushed the door to the maids quarters open. Although she never slept here -- her accommodations were much more private -- she did come down regularly to check on the servants. Also to alleviate boredom…She would never admit to that.

But upon entering the small common area, she saw the one person her currently still rolling stomach did not want to see. She remained utterly silent, repressing the irritated groan that had worked its way up her throat and stayed hidden.

Was Hal-Liurz a nosy eavesdropper? Of course. Being one of the very few trusted workers for the Count she had to be.

The little redhead did not even know the door opened. She remained still, seated at a small round table, bathed in the dim yellow glow of a single candle. The stewardess all but rolled her eyes at the scene. The room was dark aside from the small flickering flame so it was understandable that Abigale missed the door opening. Still, in the back of her mind the stewardess wished the girl had seen her. If she had she would scamper to bed like a frightened deer.

_More bad analogies? Oh well. _

The picture of the girl was so utterly alluring -- and the stewardess hated that word -- that she was surprised the Count didn't spring from the shadows himself and whisk the girl away. Not that the stewardess would have appreciated that, but ideas swimming through her head danced around the edges of bad romantic novels.

It was so wrong…yet amusing.

She looked so peaceful, sitting there reading a book, like all was right with the world. Her hair was loose, cascading in long silky waves down her back, partly tossed over her shoulder. The girl's eyelashes were so long and dark they cast shadows upon her cheeks, and her full lips were relaxed, not held between little pearly teeth for once.

It was disgusting.

The Stewardess could not keep from shaking her head. Why had the Gods sent this girl here? To create more problems? She did not know, nor did she truly want to. In Hal-Liurz eyes, everything happens for a reason. Which meant this girl was going to play some sort of role in the future. _For better or worse_. Oh, it was going to be an eventful evening.

She made her presence known by not so gracefully closing the door. Abigale's head shot up, book fumbling in her grasp as she struggled to make out who was lurking by the door. "…Stewardess?" She whispered after a moment of squinting. "Is that you?"

"No it's not." Hal-Liurz gruffly answered as she strode into the light. She crossed her arms, eyes flicking from the book to the girl. "Where'd you get that?"

The Breton bit her lip and tugged the sleeve of her peasant shirt, trying in vain to cover her shoulder. "The Count let me borrow it." She mumbled, placing a protective hand on the book's cover.

This was exactly what the Stewardess needed right now. She loved discovering what the Count was oh-so-not-discreetly doing behind her back. "Really? Are we starting a library now or are you just special?" She was the Stewardess, she was supposed oversee these affairs_. She _was the_ Stewardess_; she was supposed to be informed about something even as mundane as this. _She was the Stewardess_…and maybe she felt a little jealous.

_XXXX_

Little Hal-Liurz starred up at the tall bookshelves. Her mother would regularly scold her for staring at people and things, but she could not help it. Thankfully, her mother was not present at the moment.

Her neck began aching so she tilted her head slightly to alleviate the pain. She was beginning to feel dizzy too but she did not want to leave the Count's library just yet. Presently, she was gaping at the Count's magical tomes. All those spells and secrets were just out of her reach. She adored magic, but what she loved more was watching a certain someone practice it…

Her tail twitched and scaled fingers curled. She wanted to learn new magic. Restoration spells could only interest a twelve-year old for so long. In a futile attempt to reach the desired books, she outstretched her arms and leapt into the air. However, her claws did not even come close to the top shelf. She cursed, patted at her gown and readied herself for another jump, only to be startled by a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Let's not do that again." Said a smooth, deep voice. And all at once, the green scales on Hal-Liurz face turned a harsh purple. "You're going to hurt yourself, or my things. Either one _I'll _get into trouble for." She turned to face the Count, blinking glowing orange eyes at him and mumbled an apology. She quickly observed he had been drinking. Tonight was his and the Countess's farewell party after all, so it was expected. The smell of sweet wine and expensive mead oozed from his pores. Hal-Liurz liked the smell but was saddened to know that he only touched her because of the drink. The Count was not a big drinker but one would think a grown man as himself could hold down his mead better, on those rare occasions he indulged in it.

"Don't fret over it." He snorted, bringing himself to full height. "I won't tell a soul. Although this is my library so technically I already know…" The Count looked puzzled for a moment but shook it off. "But no books for you I'm afraid. You have your mother's collection to see to. I don't give out to the hired help. Now, would you be so kind as to fetch the Countess for me? We have something very important to…to…discuss? Yes, discuss." His silvery eyes twinkled darkly and a rather goofy smile twisted its way to his lips. "Lots of discussing." He snorted as he made his way to their bedchamber. "Tell her I intend to discuss all night. So get her, won't you?" The Count called from over his shoulder as he rounded the corned out of sight.

Hal-Liurz eyes narrowed as she huffed and turned to inform Lady Rona. _Discuss _She thought venomously _Disgusting is more like it! _It just wasn't fair. Even when drunk she could not get anything more than a hand on her shoulder out of him. She liked the Countess as a person but loathed her for being the tall, wispy, Imperial that she was. The Count would never see anything in an Argonian…

But having to stay in the room right next to theirs was just adding salt to the wound. Especially when their bed was by the wall she slept next to. They weren't exactly quiet either. She could never sleep, she hated their _discussions_ with a passion. _I can't wait to get a room in the private quarters with my mother. _

XXXX

The still rather irked Stewardess placed her hands on her hips. "Why aren't you dressed for work yet?" She snapped. "Do you intend to work in nothing but an old chemise? Get dressed and do your job, girl."

Like a spring Abigale jumped up and nearly ran to get changed, never minding the time. Hal-Liurz felt rather low for raving at the girl but she could not keep from doing so. The injustice of it all was gruesome. As a girl, she wanted nothing more than to have the Count all to herself. What she wouldn't have given then to be in the shoes of Abigale Lynn.

Of course now she no longer was a lovesick girl, desperate for her lord's attention. Rather she was an aging lizard, who would much rather smack the Count upside the head then anything else…

Why then did she hold such animosity for the two? Because the Count was being sneaky, years of knowing the man meant that was not a good sign. The girl, however, only wanted to please him. Add in both their quirks and the Count's illness and you had a bad situation waiting to happen.

* * *

Authors Notes: Craptastic chapter, huh? I'm a busy bee~ still am. But I'm starting the next chapter as we speak. Hopefully, it will be longer than this. And yes, I've made the Stewardess crush on Hassildor when she was little XDXD That is all…I hope I still have readers for this XD


	17. Amenable

Love or Blood

Chapter Fifteen: Amenable

xxxx

"Now don't let me catch you dawdling again! You have a job, do it. No more late night reading sessions, understood? Stop nodding, you look like a fool. Go do your work, girl." The Stewardess is right, I must be a fool to think that privacy is an option for me. I want it but I cannot have it. That's life I suppose.

I mumbled to myself as I walked down the hallway doing the very thing Hal-Liurz told me not to do: dawdling. It was far too early to go up to the manor now, the Count would not be expecting me. I did not want him to get cross with me because of an unexpected intrusion. He is the only kind person to me now besides Tualga and Rheena, of course.

With a sigh I looked around and hugged the book I was to return a little tighter. The castle was quiet at this time of night, it made me feel lonely and cold. I didn't like the feeling but I didn't want to actively seek out others. No one cared for my presence anyway - the fly on the wall, the girl who was just seemingly happy to be around others but never spoke, that strange child whose voice only brought awkward silence to conversations. Social life isn't for me but that's alright I'm rarely lonely…but I am a little now.

I quietly lowered myself to the floor and sat, cradling the book to my chest and bringing my knees up. I sat like a child but I was comfortable that way. Whenever I get lonely I pull myself into a ball and try to get warm. I know it sounds silly but it always makes me feel better. However, it wasn't working this time. I felt the little hairs on my arms rise and an uncomfortable air seemed to linger above me. And it got worse, colder. I was getting nervous but lacked the strength to rise.

The air smelt funny, sickeningly sweet, like someone bathed in a vat of perfume. I wrinkled my nose and placed my hands on the ground. I was no longer comfortable on the floor _or_ in the hallway for that matter. I kept fidgeting, fingers coming back up from the cool floor to twiddle nervously on the book's spine. I hadn't even realized I'd been humming rather loudly and obnoxiously.

Further down the corridor and to my left I heard a loud scraping sound, like a heavy metal object being pulled across the floor. My head snapped to the side at the noise and my lip was impulsively pulled between my teeth. I thought of scrambling to my feet but I knew better. Nothing could be seen down the hall, I could have imagined the sound, though it was unlikely. I simply didn't know how to react so I remained idle on the floor and stared down the hall. Or at least I did, until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

Instinctively I propelled myself to the opposite direction of my assailant, thus leading me to fall onto my elbows. Carpet on stone is difficult to slide on, unfortunately I didn't know that. I was grateful that I didn't slap my head on the floor or my back and get the wind knocked out of me. However I mentally cursed myself once I looked up to see a blonde and portly Imperial.

Mercator Hosidus.

"Lying down on the job are we? I don't think the Count would be very pleased if he saw you in this state. Although… I am." Mercator's voice trailed off while his beady eyes slithered around as he looked me over. It was like he had little blue snakes in his eye sockets. My jaw set and I quickly brought myself up into a sitting position, scooting a good several inches away and refusing to look up at him. He laughed and thrust a plump, pink hand at my face. I flinched, expecting to be struck only to find he was being kind and offering me a hand to rise with. Inwardly I wanted to stand on my own and not touch him…but I couldn't. Instead, I pleased him be slipping my hand into his own and lifting my chin to meet his gaze, despite my want to let it hang in shame. I just couldn't say no.

"Thank you." I mumbled, trying to _kindly _pull my hand out of his.

I was startled by his loud barking laugh. I literally jumped and placed my free hand to my throat. "She speaks?" He questioned, feigning astonishment. "Has he trained you so well already? Gods blood! Either he has too much time on his hands or well knows how to work you." He smirked, his tone suddenly dropping low, "Which is it?"

I blinked, pouted, opened my mouth and blinked again. "I…what? Neither, no! I can speak, he-he's not training me l-like an animal. I-" I was cut off by that same eerie scraping noise from down the corridor again. I turned to look behind me only to have Mercator's hand grab hold of my jaw and force me to face him. Though the action was rude his grip wasn't threatening. I only held my breath instead of trying to flee.

"You have awfully soft hands for a maid. What does he _really _have you doing up there? You can tell me, we're friends now."

I was anything but Mercator's friend. He was deliberately making me uncomfortable in order to distract me from that terrible noise. I knew this because I knew men like him, he thought he was very smart. The best thing for me to do was to play ignorant in order to leave quicker. So I did just that. "I'm his maid and I need to see him now. Please, he'll be cross with me. I-I don't want him to be. Please…"

My eyes began to tear up from being so close to him. I wasn't scared, it was his perfume. I was holding back the desire to sniffle or sneeze. He took my facial expressions as ones of abject helplessness. I believe this empowered him. He placed his hand on my _very_ lower back and guided me to the door wordlessly, a smug grin taking up his entire face.

"I _suppose _I shouldn't keep you then. Go to your master, I wouldn't ever want to put you in harms way." He opened the door for me and picked up the book that had been sadly forgotten during the ruckus. He placed it in my hands and turned me around to leave, giving my bottom a pat and telling me to hurry along.

I did just that. With my face bright red I sped off, but not to see the Count. Instead I was going to make a quick stop back at the maids' quarters. I desperately needed to wash my face.

XXXX

The Stewardess was tired but she wasn't ready to call it a night yet. She was making her rounds, the snoopy ones she didn't get paid for. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. All night she had been moping around, caught in old memories and present nuisances. She hadn't felt this miserable since the Countess had fallen ill. Yet Hal-Liurz could not place this sudden depression, she could not find a reason for it. She was happy, had all she ever needed or wanted. However, these thoughts did little to comfort the Stewardess. She still felt something was wrong.

So as she passed the maids quarters one more time she couldn't help but to peak inside…and then step inside and poke around.

She could here the splashing of water and smell the soft, sweet sent of soap. Soap that was being overused...she immediately new the culprit.

With a huff and agitated flick of her tale, she pushed the door to the washroom open and stormed over. Either Abigale Lynn was trying to drown herself or was intentionally tempting the Stewardess to do it for her. Hal-Liurz truly did not know but either way she wasn't pleased. Luckily, before the Stewardess could even entertain the idea of either outcome the girl pulled her face out of the wash bowl and began groping for her nearby washcloth. (1)

"What did I tell you to do earlier? Why do you see fit to prance about the castle like some ditsy spriggan?"

Abandoning the idea of drying her eyes with a cloth, the girl hastily rubbed them with her palms and stammered apologies. "I'm sorry Stewardess b-but I had to. I-" She stopped speaking once her vision cleared. She saw the angered look the Stewardess had fixed on her and felt it was _slightly _unnecessary. She opened her mouth to speak but decided it would do her no good. Would the Stewardess even listen to what she had to say? Moreover, would she believe her?

Hal-Liurz looked the girl over and felt a pang of nostalgia and jealousy. The girl's lashes had darkened from the water and her skin was clean and smooth. Stray strands of wet hair clung to her face and framed its soft curve. The water made her brows appear finer but darker and helped define their high arch. Abigale Lynn was _exactly_ what she had wished to look like as a girl. All her childhood she had longed to be human. To be pretty and smooth like Abigale Lynn.

Of course now she no longer wished for such things. She was an Argonian and she wouldn't change if she could. But seeing _this _girl brought back unpleasant memories of pining for someone she could never have. Of course now she would much rather slap that 'special someone' but nonetheless the memories still hurt.

"I won't be late." The girl muttered, effectively bringing Hal-Liurz out of her stupor.

The Stewardess gave a tight nod and let the girl pass her without another word. Once she was gone Hal-Liurz let out a breath she did not know she was holding. She didn't hate Abigale Lynn, she just felt it so unfair. A girl with such beauty should not be so shy. She took what she had for granted and that discouraged the Stewardess. And it was a combination of her looks and personality that was going to get them all into trouble, Hal-Liurz knew it.

Ugly ducklings who find themselves turning into swans within the walls of Castle Skingrad, once the centre of court life, often attract much attention from their superiors. Skingrad had a eventful and colorful history and such attention usually lead to squawking, demanding, bastards. Unfortunately, the Stewardess wasn't much of a baby person.

XXXX

The Count listened as she pressed a small palm to the door. He felt her frail arms strain once she pushed at the wood with all her might, eventually putting her weight into the effort (2). With a creak and groan the door gave and slid open. It was a rather drawn-out and pitiful display but he did enjoy it, oddly enough.

…Granted, it _was_ a big door.

She quickly leapt into the room, dodging the heavy door as it began to close. He blinked, her usual prim and proper appearance was absent. Although she wore clothing that mainly consisted of rags sewn together she always had an air of grace. He had never seen her so messy before. Her tight ponytail had nearly fallen out of its ribbon, red strands of hair framed her face and neck. The dark, olive-green shirt she wore was far too large and made her appear smaller than she already was.

His brow furrowed as he watched her pat down the wrinkles in her skirt. Her being so unkempt had unsettled him. She could've had a rough day but he severely doubted it. How trying could knitting be?

"Good evening." She greeted his floor. "I've brought you…" With ever fumbling fingers she held out the book before him. He watched as her grip tightened around the book's binding once he drew nearer. Janus moved closer _slower_. He had to time himself just right in order to keep from startling her. He really didn't want to get that book flung at him, it looked heavy. Of course he didn't think she would actually hum a book at his head but her behavior was unpredictable.

"I told you to keep it until you had it finished." He said while offering a kind smile. "There was no need for you to rush. I am a man of my word." The girl stared up at the ceiling above him with her lips pulled into a pout. She looked perplexed. Had something he said confused her? He quickly went over the brief conversation in his head but found nothing wrong with it…until he noticed her glancing at his mouth when he grimaced. It took a moment for him to realize what had her so seemingly bewildered. Janus paused, his face crumpling for a minute. '_I am a man of my word'._ Suddenly, he felt his masculinity at stake, which was certainly not a good thing. Technically, he wasn't a man. He had all male parts, functions, urges -and then some- but _technically _he was not human. Therefore, not a man. "Ah, figuratively speaking, of course. While I'm still a _man_, I'm not technically _human_." He laughed, and flashed her a big, 'I have fangs' smile. "Vampire, remember?"

He expected her to nod or show some signs of understanding. Instead her brow quirked, followed by the quick shake of her head. "Oh I know that, my Lord. I was just- I…I mean I wasn't. " She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, sir."

Janus examined the book cover quickly before handing it back to the girl who was currently red as a beet and quite interested with the tapestries. He liked it when she looked at his things or at him. More so when she looked him in the eyes, but he didn't truly understand why he did. Janus sufficed to peg it as a trust issues. "I see. Lost in thought?" There was his nod, followed by the quick glance and twiddling thumbs. "It's alright. It happens to the best of us. Sometimes fantasies are more enjoyable than the present. Don't get too wrapped in them though, I need you here." Another smile. Smiles were good.

She blushed red, her lips quirking into a small nervous smile, "I am very sorry, but…thank you for this." She fiddled with the book, glancing back and forth to him and it. "It means so much to me. I-I know I don't deserve an ounce of your kindness. I shall prove myself worthy, I promise. I swear. Y-you've only been good to me and I can never properly thank you. So thank you, again."

The girl continued to stand there fidgeting. He couldn't help but to notice how small she was compared to him. She was cute and she was sweet, albeit annoying at times. Being an honest man he told her this. "I think that's the most you've ever said to me." He was grinning, maybe to widely. "You are delightful. You're just in need of a little motivation to help coax it out. Such a kindhearted girl is a breath of fresh air. I would like to hear you speak more."

She gulped but she wasn't afraid. She was just very anxious. Janus was right, it was the most she had said to him without having him initiate the conversation. She was proud of herself again, but now she was afraid of disappointing him with her silence. Her lip quivered but she forced herself to speak. "It's hard. I'm trying, my Lord, but it's just so difficult for me. I wish it was not. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Janus said, eager to keep her engaged in their little conversation. "I can understand the pressure you must feel, alone in a castle with a vampire. It sounds like a tragic tale, indeed."

"But sir it is not." She spoke so quickly Janus could almost not believe it. "I-I like it here."

Janus looked at he doubtfully, "Do you?"

She responded with an eager nod, a small smile growing on her face. "It's wonderful here, my Lord. Your home is so beautiful, and you are so good to me. I have never been treated so kindly." She blushed slightly but continued on despite her obvious unease. "I owe you my life. I owe you my happiness. You are so generous, without you I'd be…I'd be."

She spoke of him as though he was magnificent. She looked at him as though he was magnificent, something to be awed and feared. Cherished, but at a distance. A powerful yet merciful deity. It was then that the Count realized that he had a little fan.

"Let's not dwell on the past. I'm quite honored to hear that you feel the way you do. This is your home now and I'd like for you to be as comfortable as possible. So, stop blushing."

Abigale Lynn bit her lip in a failed attempt to hide her smile and pressed her cool hands to her cheeks, hoping to quell the heat rising in her face at his words. "Sorry."

"Now didn't I tell you to stop apologizing? Are you defying my orders already?" Some could call it flirting, yes, but in truth she seemed to like it. And that was the only reason why he did it. Honest.

"You did. So I'm…not sorry?"

"That's better." And then she laughed. It was the most beautiful laugh in the world. From the way she tried to hide it behind her hand to the sound of it. He really liked her laugh. "When you've quite finished." He smirked, badly pretending to be annoyed.

"Sorry." She said with a shy smile, still trying to stifle her giggles.

"What did I just say about apologizing?" And she laughed again. It made him feel good. "You have a lot to learn. It's going to be a long night, isn't it?"

Even through he giggles he clearly made out the words "I hope so".

XXXX

Tualga and Rheena exchanged worried glances. Abigale Lynn was excitedly talking into her pillow, occasionally coming up for air bright faced but pink from…lack of oxygen, or to comment on her evening with such enthusiasm. They had never seen shy little Lynn like this before. Was she sick or drunk again?

Rheena picked up the book while Tualga just nodded bemusedly at Abigale Lynn. "He err, let you borrow another book?"

"Yes!"

"Did you have to do something for it?"

"No!"

"Could you very well stop shouting? The Stewardess is going to come in and have our heads." Tualga snapped, snatching the book from Rheena, which was then snatched back by Abigale Lynn.

"My day was awful until I saw the Count. I think we've reached a point of understanding. He knows that I am shy but willing. I've never been treated so sweetly by anyone. Ever. You must know how it feels to be looked at like-like a person and not just an object. Everything I have is thanks to him and he just keeps giving me more. I ask myself if I deserve it, or what it's going to cost me later on but… I don't care anymore."

She carefully placed the book back on the little table and crawled into bed. "I'm happy now. I think I deserve it."

* * *

1. The Stewardess doesn't really want to kill Abby XD. She's not jealous either. Looking at Abby brings up memories and makes her sad. D:

2. She is super weak, I like emphasizing it XD!

Authors notes: I know it's been so long since my last update but I've been very busy and have had a lot happen. I'm obviously still writing this story, ( I love reading the first chapter, oh how my writing sucked! XD) But yes, I'm still working on it! Thank you everyone for the reviews and sticking with me! Your kind words were what got my but in gear again! Thank you and please let me know what you think of it! And sorry for such an abrupt ending, you know how fickle these plots can be XD

(Oh and I capitalize spells and enchantments along with the titles: Count, Countess, Lord, Steward, Stewardess etc. Just a reminder for new readers! 8D)


	18. A New Friend

Love or Blood

Chapter Sixteen: A New Friend

XXXX

How wondrous it was to make a new friend. To hold a conversation - no matter how short - with another person, a new person. The Count had liked it very much and hoped for more to come soon. How drawl his evenings had been before her! It was comical, his days did not feel as routine once she came, even when on a tight schedule. He looked forward to her visit every night at eight. Little Abigale Lynn was never late.

Janus realized how much pleasure she gave him just by presenting herself to him each evening. Over the past several nights these feelings had strengthened and grew inside him. He hadn't felt this way in so long, it almost troubled him. Almost. He was far too overcome within the afterglow of companionship that he did not question it or himself.

Her shift had just ended and he missed her already. She was still as sweet and kind as she was the night she had a little too much to drink. Although she was still very shy and quiet he found it much easier to engage her in conversation. It had also become much easier holding it.

Janus eased himself into his favorite large armchair by the fire and smiled to himself. The heat from the fire soothed him and the softness of the armchair lulled him into a dreamlike state. Not that he was dreaming or imagining, just sitting. He had gotten so comfortable that he had almost missed the knock on the door.

He called for Hal-Liurz to enter, as he now recognized the rhythmic breathing. Argonian's breath came out scratchy, much like a hiss to his adapt hearing, as it did with all vampires. She was very lucky he didn't find it bothersome as most picky people in his situation and station would.

"Good evening." He said, not bothering to move or even turn to face her. The fire's warmth felt far too good.

She did not answer him, only walked forward and stood before him, holding a small, neatly folded piece of parchment. The Count now noticed a slight change in her color. Her scales had paled a bit, perhaps from the winter cold? "This just arrived for you." She sounded distant and strained. More than usual, so something was definitely wrong. Or he was being 'insensitive' to her position again?…

The Count quirked his brow skeptically and excepted the paper. Once he turned it over however, he saw what frightened the Stewardess so much.

It was a neat little letter, sealed with black candle wax, twin V's clearly and glossily emblazed in it.

"Ah." Janus turned the letter over experimentally with his fingers and tapped it twice on his knee. "Thank you. You may go then."

"I don't like them." Hal-Liurz glared. "Sir, they're not good people. If word ever got out…it's just not good. He will bring bad luck. They can easily destroy you by telling all what you are. Gold is his only true friend. Please do not-"

"Please do not interfere with my affairs. This doesn't concern you. Now please, kindly leave me." Although the Stewardess did not appreciate her abrupt dismissal she obeyed. She turned on her heel and went to the door. "Do not worry about your welfare, Hal-Liurz or mine. I always play my cards close to my chest, even with friends."

Without warning the Stewardess turned to him, her eyes scraping over him cynically. "And what of the others? Perhaps you've grown attached to certain workers, what if he wants them for his own? What if he is called to do the worst to them? You say you play _your _cards close to your chest, but you're not just playing with _your _cards, you hold innocence in your hands as well! It is the most foolish thing a man of your stature can do!"

The Count could not even make a remark, she had already left, huffing and buffing down the hallway. She would never realize how deep the bonds he had made ran. Everything he had to do or had done had purpose. Of course she had every right to feel discomfort. Sharing letters with a murderer wouldn't sit well with anyone. But once he made a friendship, he also made a pact.

He sighed, his quiet and pleasant evening was no longer his own. Janus leaned over and carefully pulled open the letter feeling a little annoyed, a little eager and slightly amused.

_Janus, _

_Forgive my terrible timing and brief response, but I'm afraid I have some bad news, (for you, I mean). By the time you have opened this letter I have already drank my fill and slept at the Inn closest to your home. I am in desperate need of suitable lodging and company. Moreover, we have much to catch up on. Tomorrow I will arrive at your castle and greet you at approximately eleven. I'm giving you an entire day to prepare this time so do be grateful! We are even - for now-Vicente Valtieri. _

_P.S Can't wait to meet that little headache of yours! Have her serve us drinks, would you? _

The Count pouted. He was far too familiar with Vicente Valtieri to think (or hope) that this was a joke. How would he prepare?

xxxx

"So when can we take a break?" I heard the new servant girl ask Tualga from our room. She was small, tinnier than me with chocolate curls, freckles all along her nose and cheeks with wide spaced brown eyes. She was new and that was good for me. I wasn't the baby of the castle anymore. Although I haven't the courage to ask her about her age I believe she's younger than me also. The way she talks and her mannerisms are those I can only remember possessing at a very young age.

"You don't." Tualga responded calmly, still holding a kind smile despite the girl's constant questioning. "Once you're here you work. You take your meals in here with us, and bunk in that room there." She pointed to the room next to ours. "On the weekends and holidays you can go to your family. Wages are delivered at the end of the week."

The girl rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Okay," she put a finger to her chin. "But when do I _stop _working? And when do I start, again?"

Tualga groaned and I leaned in a little closer from my hiding place - the doorway. "Laura-" so that was her name. "I've told you this a thousand times now! You're here, you work. As soon as I find you your partner she can tell you all you need to know." I desperately hoped right then that Tualga didn't partner Laura with one of those other cruel maids. I still haven't forgive them for all these awful rumors about me.

"If I could just find the girl…" Tualga looked around the room until her eyes fell upon my hiding place and she sighed. "Little Abby Lynn, you need to start looking for better hiding spots."

I swallowed hard and carefully stepped out from behind the doorframe, trying desperately to hide my blush. "Hello." I said to Laura, trying to smile despite the awkward situation I had put myself in.

Laura was an inch or two shorter than me which for some odd reason made me feel good. She looked me up and down, her eyes got big. "Wow." She gave a little laugh, which made me even more uncomfortable. "You _are _very pretty! The other girls said so and now I can see why. Guess they're right once they say good looks get you into good places, right? Right?"

"Umm." I looked to Tualga who only shrugged. "I suppose so -"

"And your voice is pretty too! So soft and feminine. I wish I could talk like that! My daddy told me that I sound like a farm mouse that's been stepped on too many times, which isn't nice, I suspect. But it could be a complement coming from my daddy, he's so smart. Pity I'm so dim sometimes, he says. But it's all good fun right?"

I opened, closed and opened my mouth again before staring helplessly at Tualga. We exchanged odd glances for a very long while.

"That's uh nice..." Tualga said taking a step back. "Lynn here is gonna' take you around the castle. She's gonna' show you all the things she had to do on her first day. When she thinks that you've gotten the hang of it, she'll bring you back here and get on with her normal routine. Sound like a plan eh?" She then left me with Laura and I felt helpless and out of place. I've never had to do this before. I felt a great wave of honor and dread at the same time. What if I messed up? What if I said something wrong?

"Well it's nice to meet you, Laura." I tried a better smile this time. "What brings you here to castle Skingrad?"

"Money." She said with a shrug. "Daddy's losing the vineyard. He told me to get my arse in gear and dip my toes into servitude. Good thing I know how to read and write, otherwise I'd never have gotten hired here! Plus I hate working the vineyards, so I'm very grateful."

That made me smile. "Your father sounds a bit like mine. My father made me work at an Inn. But I was grateful, just like you."

She smiled too and thrust her hand out to me. "The name's Laura. Laura Surilie."

xxxx

After that I didn't know how to react. For the rest of the day I was simply memorized by the fact that I was working, _training_, a girl who should have more money than the Gods. Surilie of the Surilie Brothers wines. But this was one of their daughters. She talked much about her father but never mentioned his name and I didn't ask, out of kindness. I knew for a fact that neither of the Surilie brothers had married, I had staked out their home and stole from their grapevines on numerous times. So she was a child out of wedlock. It didn't matter of course, but I wondered why they needed their daughter to work.

Throughout the day we spoke lightly to each other. After our first meeting in the maids' quarters she seemed to calm down a bit. She told me that she was only eighteen and lived in Skingrad her whole life. It was interesting to hear about the way she had grown up and compare it to mine. She had seemed to have lived the life of luxury until her father caught her with a hired help and told her to get a job. I doubted the story of her father losing the vineyard and figured she told it just as a formality, or to make her father (who she has a grudge with) look bad.

It all was going smoothly until we were both polishing the candlesticks in the main hall in silence. So far we had never had a bout of silence and by the look on her face I knew she was thinking of how to word something properly. Sure enough she turned to me.

"Hey Lynn…" she gave me a curious look. "What do you do for work?"

My face went hot again and in a second I knew that she had already spoken to the other servants.

I looked at her oddly for a long moment before responding. I wanted to tell her the truth. I liked her and thus far, she has been kind to me and talks to me more than most others. In our brief time spent together I have grown quickly to enjoy her company. It would have been good to have a friend. I cannot tell her the truth however, so I must tell her what she most likely suspects. I had truly hoped that she would be a new friend to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked her innocently enough.

She ran the tip of her tongue across her teeth before quietly responding. "When I was interviewed I heard about you. A lot about you actually and I heard some…things."

I knew it. I bit my lip, my hand no longer moving, my candlestick long forgotten. "Gossip is cruel. You shouldn't believe everything you hear." It was all I could tell her really. If she knew of my true employment, how I am bound to the Count for life, then I will most likely loose everything I now have. Everything.

"You work for the Count all night. Eight to midnight unless he calls you sooner or later. And you're so pretty." She paused and looked about nervously but eagerly. "I won't judge you, you know. I've done it once too for my daddy's investment. When a girl or her family gets down there is only so much we can do."

"I'm not his whore!" I whispered harshly. I didn't know where it came from or how it came out of me. I was so tired of the assumption that I'm that Count's concubine. It's an insult to the Count and my honor. Who are they to point the finger and call me harlot? Why do they do it to me? Because they don't know my origin or because I'm shy?

My heart was hammering in my ears. I had never been so angry. But I quickly realized that I was taking my anger out at the wrong person. It wasn't her fault. I was in this position because of what I had done for the Thieves Guild. Now this is my punishment. I can't take out my frustrations on the innocent when I'm the one to blame.

My anger quickly turned to shame. It was wrong of me to snap at this girl, especially once she just confided in me about her own experience on the flesh market. "I'm sorry." I bit my lip and looked at her pleadingly. "It gets to me after awhile. I guess it makes sense to think that I'm a…well, you know. But the Count is too good of a man to ever even consider that."

"But what _do _you _do _for him then?" She seemed unfazed by my odd rage, which was in my favor I suppose. "You're with him all evening. I heard you spend more time with him than anyone else has in years! Is that true? And why?" I was instantly flabbergasted. Instead of even holding the slightest grudge against me for my outburst she bombarded me with questions? I was intrigued and confused.

"I-I don't know why exactly. I clean for him and stay out of his way but…I think he may be lonely. I'm rather shy, I think he finds me easy to engage and maybe even enjoyable."

Her interest quickly peaked. "What's he like?"

"I…he is very kind. He seems to enjoy the simple things when he can get a hold of them. I'm afraid he is terribly busy most of the time with county work. He can't indulge in the things he likes the most."

XXXX

Skingrad, the most beautiful in Cyrodiil. With elegant, lush vines climbing along iron fences and clinging to the stone walls of its inhabitants homes. The streets, nearly always quiet, were bathed in the soft glow of lanterns and streetlamps. It was quite breathtaking at this time of night. At least Vicente Valteri thought so.

It had seemed like an age since his last visit to Skingrad. The light sent of flowers gave him an almost nostalgic pang. Everything in Skingrad was to its finest. The food, wine, culture and the people - whom were separated by district, of course. Some people couldn't stomach the city. Being as wealthy as it was, it gave the citizens bragging privileges…which they often abused. But Vicente was a vampire. Such things were mundane. However he did enjoy the wine, and the clean flesh of a warm female delicacy. Beyond that, the place was just pretty to look at.

Of course he wasn't here to gawk tonight. Nope, he had a date with 'the most interesting man in the world'. Tonight he was off to meet Janus Hassildor, Count of Skingrad and biggest stick-in-the-mud there ever was.

Oh he was excited!

Effortlessly he clung to the banister that framed the small courtyard outside the castle's main entrance. Shrouded by shadows, Vicente leapt over the railing and landed silently onto the wooden planks. He proceeded to make his way to the Count's door, having timed the guards patrol already, the entire task was simple.

The last thing on his list were the locks. _'Oh Janus, how you love locking yourself away' _Vicente smiled as he pulled out a lock pick and invited himself into Castle Skingrad.

xxxx

Training Laura was much harder than one would think. She talked and talked and forced me to respond. But we did get along and she was a fast learner. I did think that her endless questioning would be the death of me.

She bid me goodnight and went to bed. I had a mind to join her after I ate something. But before I even could bring the tin cup of water to my lips the Stewardess came to me.

"Your presents is required tonight. The Count wishes to see you." I blinked. Tonight was the only night I had off to work. What was so important that he needed to see me? "Before you ask, I shall answer. Tonight you are entertaining him and his guest." She looked funny. Stricken, maybe. All I knew was that she was unsettled and that only worried me more.

"Guest?" I repeated. I was unaware that the Count had connections outside of the castle. Which is silly of me I know. When being a Count one has to keep up certain appearances, but with his condition how could he? But that was all besides the point now. I had never really entertained anyone before. What was I to do? What was wanted of me and could I provide it? I'd have to, of course, but that's very nerve-racking. "May I ask who I am to entertain?"

"No you may not." She answered as if she knew that question was coming as well. "Just come with me and all will be made clear soon enough."

xxxx

"I don't like it anymore than you do." Hal-Liurz told me as we walked side-by-side down the throne room. " The Count rarely gets visitors and when he does they're usually no good. Many deals must be made to ensure the safety of our Count and County, however. These things must be done." She paused and looked directly at me. "Don't be afraid, the Count wouldn't present you to someone he thought would hurt you. Try to except him and behave."

I didn't like how she was talking. I wondered why she was confiding this information with me. That's when it hit me. Dealings, entertaining strange company, the new maid Laura, Hal-Liurz's attitude. I was being sold.

My heart sank deep within my chest. My fingers went numb and my face grew hot. How…how could he? I thought he and I were getting. Getting…I don't know. But how? Why?

"Stewardess," I stammered. "W-what am I supposed to do? I-I don't want to go. Can't you please-"

We stopped at the Count's door and she fixed me with an odd stare. "I can give no further advice. Go to him now." She didn't offer me a second glace as she disappeared down the hall, leaving me to my grief and fright. With a careful hand I reached up and grabbed the knockers.

I was surprised when the door opened for me. I stood with my shoulders too far back and stared up at the Count. He was dressed in a black shirt, vest and pants, neatly embellished with a red-thread pattern. He was dressed no different than usual, but I felt there was still something off. Knowing that tonight might be the last night in his castle caused a wave of sickness to overcome me once I met his gaze.

You're not supposed to stay where you aren't wanted. But here I felt safe. Would it all leave me now?

I opened my mouth to greet him, but he cut me off by taking hold of my arm and pulling me inside his room. I stumbled over my feet but was able to catch myself on one of the stone pillars in his room. He locked the door behind us and turned to me. The _safe _feeling I was lamenting over a moment ago washed away.

"I'm terribly sorry about that. I had to make sure you weren't followed."

"Followed?" I gulped. "Who would be following m-me sir?"

"Sit." He commanded, waving away the question with a smile. I did as told and carefully seated myself in the chair I had sat in last time he told me to sit. "I'm afraid I haven't got much time to explain. You see there is…a _friend _of mine who is coming to visit tonight and he wants to meet you."

"Why?" I asked, not realizing that I had just interrupted one of the most powerful men in Cyrodiil. I wanted to know why I was put in this predicament and I wanted to know now.

"I've spoken to him before about you and he thinks you would be entertaining. I've described your…ah, yourself, to him." My face burned and I had a fistful of my skirt in my hand. What exactly was 'described' about me? And what was so wonderful about me that it put me on the market?

Suddenly I wasn't able to hold myself back. I began to cry.

XXXX

He felt the heat radiating off of her like she was a roaring fire...at a comfortable distance. She was hotter than usual but showed no signs of fever. Then, oh then, did things get _awful_. She, for no fathomable reason, started crying.

"W-_why_?" She sobbed. "I didn't do anything wrong! I-I just-"

The Count was so dumbfounded that it took him a moment to realize that she was sobbing at him. This was going all wrong. He wanted her to know that she was going to be safe with him, that his friend wouldn't hurt her. Instead she was bawling her eyes out, shaking her head and acting like it was some sort of doomsday.

This madness had to stop.

"Wha-what are you talking about?" He edged closer. "Why are you crying, what's wrong?"

"Y-you," She sniffled, her voice barely audible. "You're selling me! I know it. I've not been good enough for you, sir I just-"

"No, no!" Janus was so surprised he almost laughed. "I'm not selling you. You've gotten it so very wrong."

"Please, my Lord, please let it be so." She did not remove her hands from her face. Only hunched deeper into her arms. "I don't want to go."

Her voice was so soft, barely above a whisper. It tugged on the Count's heartstrings more than he would have ever thought possible. It was a desperate little plea from this young girl that brought him to his knees, and touched him in a way he didn't understand. So he kneeled before her and gently took her thin wrists into his much larger hands, carefully pulling them away from her face.

"You're not going anywhere." She stared. For the first time he was at eyelevel with her. He felt like he was looking into her, past those pretty irises and into something more. "I would never do such a thing to you. I couldn't, such cruelty is beyond me, especially towards you." Her wrists were soft and warm and her heart was racing. The touch, the smell and the tears were eliciting emotions in him he long thought dead. "I want you. I want you to stay here with me. To be happy."

She stared at him, unbelievingly beautiful in the oddest of ways. Why did he keep thinking of her beauty? Why did he feel the need to reach out and touch her? Why had he acted on it and why couldn't he let go of her now?

"Oh Janus, you are the sweetest little creature! You sure know how to warm my cold heart." Two heads whipped around towards the front door, entangled limbs quickly detaching. "I had almost forgotten just how you are with words, silver-tongued devil, you! Take me now before the moment is gone, if you please."

xxxx

Being as overwhelmed as I currently was I did not hear the door open and neither did the Count for that matter. But I stared dumbfounded at the man or…creature before me. He stood around my height, a bit taller, with soft brown colored hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail. But by Gods' blood he was _pale_. Whiter than the purest marble.

His clothing was rich, embellished with gold and made of velvet. But his attire could not mask the look in his eyes or gauntness of his features. He was a vampire and one could tell so if close enough. But his voice was smooth and calming. His gestures just so. I could not tell if he was a danger to me yet but I trusted the Count's word. I would remain silent unless told to speak.

"You're early." The Count rasped, quickly getting to his feet and making his way over to his guest.

"Fashionably, of course." The other vampire said with a smile. He made his way toward the Count and extended his hand. The Count was very tall in comparison to him, almost comically so. "It has been too long, my friend. We have much to catch up on, like the two old bitties we are."

"Yes. And as always it is a pleasure to see you but I would be ever so grateful if you showed up on time. Not before or later." The Counts' brow rose in a way I did not recognized. "It's rather rude."

"You're only cross with me because I interrupted your little _rendezvous. _I'd be cross with me as well if someone pulled me away from this little bird, friend or no." He turned and smiled at me but a lump formed in my throat from it. His fangs were much larger than the Count's.

"Ah yes, I would like to introduce you." The Count turned to me and motioned me to come forward. I quickly wiped away any stray tears on my face and made my way to him.

"Enchanting. I am Vicente Valtieri, your Lords oldest friend." He took my hand and kissed it. I held my breath. His hands and lips were cold. "It is an honor to meet you, miss Abigale Lynn. I've heard a great deal about you."

"Wonderful, you are on a first name basis. Absolutely sensational." The Count grunted from beside me. I was suddenly jerked toward him. His hands were on my shoulders. My heart instantly raced and other odd sensations ran through me. All screaming out that my comfort zone had already been breached multiple times in this one night, and that it could not handle much more.

Vicente quirked his pale brows at the Count. "Janus you hurt my feelings. Do forgive him my lady. He's young and still going through his terrible _mine _faze. I'd give it another decade or two before it has fully run its course." I blinked at Vicente oddly but the Count loosened his grip on my shoulders.

Knowing that Vicente was the older of the two was easily distinguished without him telling me so. There was wisdom in his stare. And although he was handsome - with sharp angular facial features, a lively nature and pale skin - he was just a bit too gaunt, _sickly_ but otherwise looked healthy. It was very strange.

"You can say hello." The Count's breath ran across my ear and neck causing the little hairs on my skin to prickle.

"Hello." I said automatically. I swallowed hard and looked up past my shoulder to see the Count. He had a smug look upon his face and had it focused on Vicente. "It's nice to meet you." The Count's hands fell from my shoulders and in that instant I felt relief and loneliness. I did not know the man across from me and was only on…terms too difficult to word with the man behind me.

"How about a drink?" Vicente proposed only shortly after my greeting. "I'm parched, Janus! You're not being very hospitable. Invite me in but give me nothing to drink? Honestly better manners in a scrib! I'll make myself at home then. Wine in the same cabinet as it was two years ago?"

"My friend you hurt me so. Am I so predictable?"

"That depends. Is the wine in the same cabinet?"

"Yes."

"Then yes."

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. They sounded like an old married couple. And while I'll admit I had felt a shot of adrenaline once Vicente mentioned a 'drink' the sensation quickly dispersed.

Vicente beamed at my laughter. "Would you care for a drink as well? I want her to join us Janus. It's been a long while since I've been in the company of a _lady_." His mouth pursed for a moment. "Then again your company certainly resembles a femin-"

"Complete that sentence and I shall call the guards. Then, in a small jail cell with a hulking _orc,_ you can decide whose more feminine."

"That is just unfunny."

I bit the inside of my cheeks. I had never heard the Count say anything of that nature! But instead of finding it revolting and racy, I laughed again. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Author notes: Been...uh a bit of time since my last update but I've been super busy. Got a job, lost a job, got engaged. Fun stuff! I haven't really even glanced at this in _so long_ but it never really left me. Like the song it's always been on my mind XD.

So nothing new. Except a few things. Hope you don't mind the dust on this chapter hehe... I have to give an obnoxiously loud THANK YOU! To the peeps who have reviewed. I may not have answered you but the odd flood of feedback I've been getting recently inspired me to write again. Thank you c:!

The next chapter is a good one! Lots of laughs, talk of these fine two vampires naughty parts, the works XD. Be kind and reveiw if you want more! It really is inspiring!


	19. Size of the Matter

Love or Blood

Chapter Seventeen: Size of the Matter

xxxx

* * *

I was hesitant at best but something in Vicente's eyes made me step forward. I smiled awkwardly at him and went to kindly refuse but he took my hand in his own before I could so much as shake my head.

"I must insist that you join us. It has been so long since I have enjoyed the company of such a pleasant young woman. Far too long." His touch took my breath away. I was overwhelmed with the oddest of sensations; a comfort I had never known. As if I could hear him whispering sweetly to me, telling me everything was going to be alright. I found myself being pulled in at his stare. His eyes so red and piercing, like the Count's.

They were so alike. It made my knees weak.

"Yes." I heard myself murmuring. "I shall gladly stay." The words sounded distant and foreign on my own tongue. But I had said them and that was all that mattered. Pleasing Vicente was all that really mattered.

"Excellent. I knew you wouldn't let us down." His voice was like honey, so sweet to my ears. And his touch, so cold and refreshing to my flushed skin.

"I would never let you down." I said aghast. Something had certainly come over me but I lacked the ability - or reason to care for that matter - to do anything about it. Vicente had become the object of my inner most private obsession. I wanted to make him happy but I didn't know why. But it did not matter. Only making Vicente happy mattered. I was happy if he was happy.

XXXX

"You dog." The Count stared hard at Vicente. "Why in oblivion would you do that?"

Vicente gave the Janus a cheeky grin before drawing the girl closer to him. "Nothing like a little Vampire Seduction to break the ice." He chuckled at the Count's expression and ran his hand over the servant's stomach, lowering his head to her neck and grinning into her hair. "She is so warm and smells so sweet." He sighed and patted her head. "She's a good girl, you know. I can feel her even now trying to resist my advances. So strong willed."

"Stop it." Janus rose, white knuckled and nauseous.

Vicente blinked and looked at him more seriously now and allowed the doting girl to slip into a chair. "Janus, you know me. I would never touch her. I'm only teasing-"

"You just were." The Count spat. "I told you not to touch her. I told you _specifically _not to lay a finger on her. Here you are now spelling the child!"

"Hey now, she was coming onto me, I swear." To Vicente this was priceless. Although the girl was beautiful she was just that, a girl. A mere child. He had no interest in her for she was far too young. He liked his ladies to at least know what they were doing.

However, Janus seemed to have forgotten Vicente's provoking ways. The elder vampire was always teasing, mocking and doing whatever he could to get a rise out of the grumpy Count.

After all what were fiends for?

_ "Janus," _Vicente called in a sing-song voice, a meager attempt to calm the situation. "Stop being so primal. She's here, she's yours, take her." With a slight push, Vicente sent the chair the girl was seated in skidding across the stone floor. The Count quickly grabbed hold of it before it sped past him. He looked up toward Vicente with nearly tangible irritation. "Oh and the Spells gone. Forgot to mention that tidbit."

Janus found himself met with panic-stricken eyes. The girl, now fully alert, stared up at him. Desperation was plain on her face. She didn't remember anything past taking Vicente's hand, Janus was sure of that.

Thinking quickly, the Count forced a smile and a little white-lie to go with it. "Vicente is going now to fetch us some drinks. I'm so glad you decided to join us after all." _Ah, diplomacy. Always good when in a tight spot._

"I…did?" She trailed off and scanned the room. Vicente had already picked up on the Count's fib and was bringing back goblets and wine bottles.

"Indeed! And thank the Nine for that. I certainly don't want to be all alone with Janus. Such a sullen fellow."

The Count laughed dryly but made no retort. Instead, he brought his gaze back down to the servant girl. She wore an olive green tunic that laced up the front, tied neatly into a little silk bow. It brought out her eyes and gave great contrast to her pale flesh. Flesh the Count found very pleasing to stare at. Ivory breasts pressed against the delicate fabric…

"Sir!" The girl exclaimed. Caught, the Count jumped back and straightened. "I'm so sorry! I've been sitting in your chair." Abigale Lynn stood quickly as the Count. Their simultaneous jump had them standing toe-to-toe. The Count – who moments ago thought he was about to get smacked — had leaned his torso back slightly, leaving his pelvic area exposed. In the one quick motion flesh and fabric touched. The tops of her breasts slid easily against his pants.

For a moment the world stopped and heated embarrassment filled the air. The two stared at each other, equally shocked and still trying to gather what happened. Odd sensations crippled them both, tying their tongues and turning their bodies rigid. The Count in particular felt substantially uncomfortable; physically and mentally.

Coming to and realizing what she did apologies quickly began spilling from her flushed lips. The Count, once again just as quickly kept assuring her that it was fine. Everything was fine. So very fine. He had for a brief moment thought all had been lost, gaining her trust and friendship. But the fact that she was still looking him in the eyes spoke volumes. This could be brushed away with effort. Strong effort on his part. He didn't want to forget it. At least not entirely.

"I-I-I'm so sorry Sir!" She placed a hand over her mouth, exasperated and stunned by the simple movement that turned a brush awry. "I didn't mean to touch you, I-"

"It was an accident. My fault entirely." He felt like he needed to breathe but he didn't. Although everything was odd and suddenly fast he liked it. He liked everything about it down to the girl's exasperated face.

"I wasn't supposed to sit there in the first place." She pleaded, her hand finding its way to her hair as she smoothed back several red strays. He noted that she kept touching her face. Like the heat of the moment was too much to bear. He could feel the heat and wondered if so could she.

"You may sit wherever you please-" Janus waved his hand around the room in a brief example, finding moving his limbs was more difficult than he originally thought. He felt so constricted. Confined in his own skin. Her look was…empathetic? As though she felt sorry for him more than herself. Could she possibly know what was running through his mind, what he was feeling? _Oh dear._

"How delightfully awkward!" Vicente chirped, cutting the two off and breaking both trains of thought. "This is going to be a good night indeed."

Abigale Lynn gave another glance to her master. 'Should I leave?' was written plainly on her face. But Janus didn't want her to go. He desperately wanted her to stay. To make up for it all and get back on their own mutual trust. That's all he wanted, no more…

Her hands were wringing obsessively but she was coaxed into sitting again by Vicente. Not by spell but with honeyed words of accomplishment. He gushed over Janus' body language when confronted by a pretty girl. He joked; every movement filled with mirth and congratulated her on achieving the impossible: stunning the Count into compliance.

However, the poor Count received no words of comfort or praise. Just sympathetic and apologetic looks from his servant. Regardless, Janus _had_ to sit down, otherwise certain appendages were sure to knock something over.

They both gratefully accepted the wine Vicente poured and neither glanced in the others direction once seated. They drank quietly, avoiding each others path of vision like the plague. While Abigale Lynn mentally cursed the size of her breasts the Count was busy reliving the moment again and again. He felt less guilty for doing so with each sip of Blood Wine. (1)

Vicente on the other hand was delighted. He kept them both chatting idly and drinking. He wanted more to happen, it was such fun! He had not expected to witness Janus' most erotic moment in years. Poor Janus looked as though he had been caught with his hand down his pants. But Vicente could feel the tense air taking on a more alluring wave. The more they drank the heavier the feel of the room. He could smell the curiosity on the two. That reserved, dignified and most honest Count was so swayed by this girl. And the girl couldn't stop bringing a curious hand to her chest.

By Sithis, Vicente would _never _let him live this down.

Around the third glass of wine they began to loosen. Vicente caught the two glancing at each other again and again. Abigale Lynn looked at the Count like they shared a secret. He looked at her with brightly red shining eyes, both hot and guilty. The elder vampire knew that secretly, they both liked it. And it was deliciously different to such seemingly innocent creatures. One would think they had gotten away with murder.

XXXX

Janus watched her recline in his chair. She sighed heavily and smiled at Vicente. Again chattering about the Imperial City or some such nonsense. The Count would have never imagined her warming up to Vicente as fast as she did. He believed it was partially forced, as Vicente would never shut up. It was bothering the Count more than usual. He was taking away all her attention. Hogging it and gloating secretly about it. Janus _knew_ it.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she turned to him. "Sir," She breathed, a smile playing across her lips. "I truly am sorry. That was an accident."

"No my dear, you are wrong." Vicente interjected, once again stealing away her attention. "It was entirely our Count's fault. You see, had he a mind for personal space you would have never been forced into such a position."

She laughed at that and waved her right hand enthusiastically. Janus blinked. He never hovered around her before…did he?

When she turned to the Count again and met his puzzled expression her smile quickly faded. "I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, Master Vicente." She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself. The wine was fogging her mind but even in a drunken state she felt a compelling need to comfort the Count. "It was indeed my fault. I shouldn't have been there…in the chair." She glanced over at said chair and grimaced. "Chairs…" She took another hearty gulp from her glass.

The Count smiled at her even as she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her gown. It was a thoughtful gesture and the Count was glad that she expressed it. She stared into the fire and the Count found himself marveling at her relaxed body. The light of the flames licked at her pale skin and danced in her eyes.

"You seem to have yourself quite the little admirer, Janus." Vicente teased. Abigale Lynn looked up and gaped, then quickly closed her mouth. She was now sporting a heavy blush but her eyes strayed over to the Count's form and stayed there a long while.

"I do admire him." She mumbled in her best attempt to diffuse the situation.

Vicente's grin grew wider at this, his fangs flashed brightly at his host. "How very sweet she is to you. Now Janus, you should thank her. Kindness like that is very hard to come by these days."

The Count shot a subtle glare at Vicente and turned to Abigale Lynn. Again she stunned him. Her large eyes set upon him, brightly. She eagerly awaited what he had to say but…she looked so damned hopeless. She always seemed to. No matter what the occasion, what the conversation, there was always this sad, pitiful expression. But at the same time it was beautiful. Like she needed comforting. Tonight Janus had to suppress the urge to hug the child. "Thank you." He said lightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well if a dead man could blush." Vicente laughed, helping himself to yet another drink. "In all my years I have never seen our Count so speechless! My dear girl, you have just opened a page on this dusty tome and started a fresh chapter." Vicente patted her head and she smiled up at him. "Our dear Janus is growing up. Oh, how the years fly by."

"Grown?" She asked, turning towards Vicente. Drunkenness making her movements sloppy. "Isn't the Count grown already?"

"Of course my dear. I believe whole heartedly that our Count has grown several inches within the past few minutes alone." Janus, whom had been contently sipping from his glass, coughed the liquid onto his sleeve, eyes wide and set dangerously on Vicente.

Abigale Lynn simply furrowed her brow, mouth pursed and puzzled. She looked the Count up and down twice. "He looks the same to me." After a short pause and a few more curious blinks her expression changed violently to abject shock and horror. "Oh!"

Vicente's laugh came as a bark and caused him to double over. "Sweet child! Innocent being!" His laughter filled the room. Janus ran his hands through his hair. Mumbling how incredibly 'unfunny' his guest was. They were both surprised however when another laugh rang through the air.

"Awful! Awful!" Abigale Lynn cried as she covered her bright red face. "Poor Count! You are too cruel Master Vicente!"

"Perhaps I am," He beamed. "But it is incredibly funny to imagine such a thing, yes?"

To the Count's horror, she nodded.

"Then allow me to indulge you." Vicente again _chirped. _Janus was mortified but felt conflicted on how he could react. Everything he thought of to stop the conversation ended badly in his mind. "You see all these big fancy columns? And those great walls outside?" Abigale Lynn hurriedly nodded, already biting her lip with anticipatory laughter. Janus had privately agreed to drink away his sorrows. "My sources tell me that although it may seem so, the Count is not compensating. Just proving his manliness."

The two rejoiced with renewed laughter. Clutching their sides at the Count's dismay, until he could take it no longer. "Anyone else tired?" He snapped, starring daggers at Vicente.

A little hand raised wearily and his servant smiled. "I am, Sir."

"Drat!" Vicente exclaimed, "We were just starting to have fun." He pouted.

"Unlike you, people have to work in the morning." The Count said, faking his best smile and cheerful tone. He turned his attention back to the girl. "You've had an awfully long night here. Perhaps it's time for bed?" The Count stood.

"You'd like that wouldn't you…" Vicente coughed. The Count bent over and took Abigale Lynn's hands, discretely kicking Vicente in the shin while doing so. They both overlooked the elder vampire's painful howl.

"I had fun." She breathed, starring up at the Count.

"I did as well." He smiled "Would you like an escort to bed? If you need one I will happily provide one for you."

"Happily and erectly." Vicente hissed, massaging his shin, only to have a prompt blow hit the other.

"Thank you, my Lord but I think I'll be alright." She let her hands slip gently from his and took hold of her skirt, bowed her head and wavered slightly. "Permission to be dismissed, Sir?"

He nodded back at her. "Granted."

She bid them both goodnight with an enthusiastic wave and wobbly left his room.

No sooner had the door latch clicked the Count grabbed a book and flung it toward the other vampire. Vicente, though still drunk from the blood wine was able to incline his head and miss the hurling book. Thus sending it into the fire.

The Count growled in dismay. "You insufferable fool! H-how dare you! Where do you get off?-"

"I don't." The elder vampire interjected, fighting off a smirk. "But you do."

Another book was cast into the fire. "She will never return! You've scarred her away with all your racy disgusting talk!"

"Relax my friend." Vicente sighed, leaning in his chair. "If you were paying attention you would have noticed something very interesting."

It was Vicente's tone alone that made Janus slightly interested. "And what would that have been?" The Count snapped.

"When it came to discussing your, ahem 'manhood' she was awfully curious." He let the sentence hang and slowly sink in.

"Curious?" The Count quietly repeated. Suddenly it became alright again. Everything was wonderful. He had been so embarrassed but now…

"Given a little encouragement, I probably could have got her to pants you in the hall."

Janus smirked, wide and wicked. His anger quickly dissolved as though it was never there. Instead he was filled with a strange lustful sensation. He wanted to cure his little maid of her curiosity and set her mind at ease. As well as other things that were currently aching just at the thought.

He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. "If she was so curious all she needed to do was ask." Janus couldn't wait to see her tomorrow.

* * *

A.N: OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD. I updated? YUS! Thank you to all who have been reviewing. It's the thing that got my butt in gear again! Hopefully for good this time! This chapter is very choppy, sorry 'bout that! Please let me know if you liked it! And ALL characters were inebriated, so if they seemed a tad OOC, that is why. I had the most difficulty writing the drunken Abbey. She's a pain but men are usually all about weenies and sex when they're drunk XDXD (So are women but shhhh) XDXD


	20. Porcelain

CHAPTER RATED M FOR STUFF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

1. Blood Wine: Fresh mortal blood magically mixed with aged wine. The equivalent of drinking straight from an intoxicated mortal. AKA: Gets vampires drunk. XD

Love or Blood

Chapter Eighteen: Porcelain

xxxx

* * *

The next day when I awoke I was again greeted by a painful pounding in my head. My body ached and I felt tired despite just having opened my eyes. All felt filthy and stiff, blurry and weak. I immediately knew what the cause of all this pain was and slapped my clammy palm against my forehead in disgust. I just couldn't say no, could I? I had to give in and I didn't know why.

I groaned and rolled over, propping myself up onto my belly with one hand while using the other to rub my eye. My hair was still in a ponytail and a very messy one at that. What's more, I was naked. I had stripped myself as bare as a newborn babe and crawled into bed. I vaguely remembered entering my room and passing a gapping Laura. I didn't remember if we spoke, I just knew I had seen her. Also that I felt extremely hot and my clothes felt confining. On top of that, pajamas were too confusing for my inebriated state.

So I was left alone, naked and unreasonably happy. At least that was how I felt last night.

I glanced around the room quickly. Rheena and Tualga were both off tending to their new shifts. I had no one to tend to me this time. The pitch blackness of the room was my only comfort.

Reaching up, I pulled the ribbon out of my hair and let my hair flow freely. It did little to ease my scalp that currently felt like it was slowly splitting in half. I let my head fall back down into my pillow and cursed. I felt wretched both physically and mentally. How could my mother do this on her own night after night? And why did I agree whenever the opportunity arose?

I didn't bother looking up when I heard the door creak open. I stayed with my face in the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. But the footsteps came closer to me, until they were directly by my side. Still I did not move. Not to be rude, not too feign sleep, but because my head felt too heavy to lift.

Whoever entered placed something gently on my nightstand and left. It was the soft sound of crystal being placed on the table that made me lift my head a bit. My eyes had become so accustom to the darkness by now that I was quickly able to make out a small glass on my bedside table. I blinked and glanced toward the door that had already begun to close.

I opened my mouth to speak but found it too dry to do so. Instead I brought my attention back to the glass. I reached out with fumbling fingers and grasped the dainty cup. I brought it to my nose and smelt nothing odd. It was simply a glass filled with a clear liquid; water with a funny taste, I soon realized.

But the water was so cool on my lips that I drank the entire cup within a matter of seconds. I sighed contently, feeling an overwhelming pull to my pillow and placed the cup back on the table. "Rheena must have made this." I mumbled to myself, smiling gently at the door. I snuggled back into the covers of my bed and reminded myself to thank her for the tonic as I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

XXXX

He found it hard to believe that no fresh blood ran through his veins. Presently he was suffering from adrenaline like symptoms. But that couldn't possibly be real, could it? Surely this was all mind over matter. But why was he doing this anyway? When was the last time he passed through the Main Hall? Or went into the Maids Quarters for that matter?

Janus swallowed hard. Despite owning the entire city, he rarely left his chambers and only left the castle to feed. He never wandered anymore. Too risky, despite knowing all charms and incantations that could quickly get him out of a pinch, it was still too dangerous. Not only for himself but others as well.

But this time he had to do this. Although he had no grasp on exactly why; something like compassion was moving him forward. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. It wasn't fair for him or her.

Her, with her beautiful hair and smile. Her, with the lightest laugh and purest heart. And her, who he constantly poisoned with alcohol, just so he could hear her voice…

How much further could he possibly sink? He was the lowliest man who ever walked Nirn.

He shook his head once more. '_She's not the purest girl. She once was a thief, probably more…'_

But he could tell himself that a thousand times a day and knew it was losing its effect. He trusted her now. He even enjoyed her company. He wanted to get to know her better, to just be close to her. The only thing he couldn't understand was why. Sure, she had changed and blossomed under his short ruling of her. But in the five months they had known each other he found himself going through an unknown whirlwind of emotions:

Blinded rage, mistrust, grievance, curiosity, empathy, delight, frustration and now compassion. All in that very same order.

There were a few others as well but nothing he wanted to think about more than he already did…which was a lot. An awful lot. Gods, he felt like a boy again. It was rather infuriating.

Still he had made a mistake and was going to rectify it. So with the tonic in hand, mixed and corked, he pushed the door to the Maids Quarters open.

Under the cover of an invisibility spell he silently crept inside. Glancing around, he saw that it was nearly vacant - besides a certain stable boy and maid currently intertwined in the back of the room. His upper lip cured back at such a sloppy display of public affection but he tried his best to ignore it.

The Count quickly found the girl's room. She was in there alone alright. It smelt of sweet wine. Anything the girl came into contact with seemed to cling to her skin.

Carefully, he made his way inside. The light from the Maids Quarters illuminated a sliver of the room, beaming directly on her bed. He had a mind to move quickly but soon noticed that his servant was…naked. A pearly white expanse of flesh, red hair partially revealing small shoulder blades, the smooth arch of her back hidden beneath course bed sheets. She was beautiful. Her head turned slightly, her little nose, full lips and long dark lashes visible. By the Gods, he was happy. Just looking at her, he was happy.

He swallowed hard and approached her bedside. Janus uncorked and placed the tonic on her night table just as she was beginning to stir. He took one last long look at her, this time his eyes dancing over her exposed neck, then left hurriedly.

xxxx

'Round nighttime I finally rose. 'Slept like the dead' I was told, but I didn't feel dead. Not at all, not dead, nor ill, tired or pain wracked. All ailments – even ones I wasn't aware of – had left me. I felt amazing, lithe and energetic. All was well and I was happy because of it. Whatever was in the tonic was certainly powerful. Too powerful. I knew it was the key to my sudden good health after a night of drowning myself. I began to question who actually made it but had no means of finding out. I was already almost late for work and Rheena and Tualga were nowhere to be found.

Still I hoped to thank my guardian, whoever he or she may be.

I made my way to the Count's manor feeling a little worried. From the fragments of my memory I recalled many things. Some of which I certainly hoped could be forever banished from my mind. And although I had a more positive outlook on my relationship with the Count, I still felt utterly cursed. Every time I tried to do good by him – or what I hoped he would deem good, I found myself in _these_ types of situations.

I glanced around the hall to make sure that I wasn't being watched or followed. Once I verified that I was indeed alone, I brought my hand to my chest. My heart was beating fast, very fast. I thought of everything that I could remember last night: staring while the light of the fire danced over him. When he took my hands into his own, the way his thumb brushed my knuckles. Everything that came back to me made my heart pound against my breast. Banging against my ribs so hard it was difficult to breathe. I could feel myself blush, my knees shook, my palms sweat…

I think I made a friend.

XXXX

The Count rubbed his temples. Vicente Valteri had gone back to Cheydinhal, leaving nothing but a brief note thanking the Count for his generosity. Also promising a swift return once as he had the time. To Janus it sounded more like a threat than a promise.

Still the Count would eagerly read any letters that came his way from the elder vampire. It was good to have advice and friendly conversation with someone who understood his humor. However, he certainly did not need said vampire to 'stoke the flame of his inner passions' – as Vicente had _kindly_ written.

He placed Vicente's letter down and sat at his desk. It was almost that time again. Despite all…shortcomings he wanted to see her very much.

_Abigale Lynn._

XXXX

A small knock on the door jolted him into reality. Before he could respond the door opened and inside walked the one girl who plagued his mind.

She strode over to him with purpose. Showing confidence he hadn't yet seen from her. Abigale Lynn curtsied, "My Lord." She captured his gaze with heavily lidded green eyes.

The Count blinked, taken aback by the look. "Good evening." He cleared his throat, oddly feeling ill at ease. "Feeling well, I presume?"

Abigale Lynn took another step toward the desk; her hips met flush the wood. Once again the Count was taken aback by her behavior. "Very well My Lord. In fact, I haven't felt this good in ages…" She reached up suddenly, a blush spreading across her cheeks, and tugged at the lacy bow in her hair. Fiery locks fell from their usual neat place and covered her shoulders. She inhaled deeply and met his gaze again. "I'm ready, My Lord."

Janus' voice caught in his throat. He was perplexed. Her mannerisms and this boldness; it was so unlike the girl he knew. "Ready…? What are you doing?" He finally managed to ask, taking on an authoritarian tone with some difficulty. He was about to stand but she stopped him, capturing his rapt attention once she reached up and began to unbutton her blouse.

"I'm not sorry, My Lord." With the small shake of her head, those beautiful red strands danced along the revealed pale flesh. "This is brazen but it is right. You feel it, don't you? The fire. It's so hot." She shrugged off her blouse now wearing only a small brassier and skirt. "I cannot bear this heat any longer alone."

"…Stop this." The Count was in shock but managed to stand. Only to be met by her as she made her way around the desk. Whatever she was up to, no matter how appealing, was bad – _wrong_. Despite his own fantasies, it was one thing to imagine, another to act upon. Although, the idea of her sharing the same imaginations excited him. "You-you must stop this." She stood so closely. He couldn't fight it, he wanted to touch her. "Wrong." His fingers flexed, his mind was failing him.

Tentatively, she took his hand. "I know you desire me, My Lord, and…" She placed his hand upon her breast. Soft, warm, heavy in his palm, his fingers stretched up to meet the skin he so desperately wanted to feel beneath the cloth. "I desire you." She tilted her head up to his, her breath on his chin. "Take me." She said in a whisper, still blushing madly. He looked down at her beautiful, honest, nervous, flushed face.

It was all the Count needed. His morals were gone.

He pulled her to him quickly, frightened her as he reached back and pushed everything off the desk, tossing her onto it. He leaned over her, pressed his mouth to hers as he struggled to get free of his tunic. She wrapped her arms around his back as he continued kissing her everywhere. He then tugged off the fabric at her breasts, freeing them, and showing them ample amounts of attention. His mouth planted over a soft pink nipple, while his hands were up in her hair.

Abigale Lynn wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning loudly. "I need you now, My Lord." She panted, her slender fingers running down to his trousers. "Now."

Though he was a man of foreplay he quickly obliged. He yanked her skirt off – she lost a shoe in the process, then her undergarments. He quickly untied the laces on his pants, allowing them to fall on their own accord. He took hold of himself and pressed against her entrance. Evidently she was already as excited and ready as he was, despite their quickness. She moaned again encouragingly. He licked his lips then pushed the rest of himself inside her.

Her head fell back against the desk, eyes closed and mouth open. He gauged her reaction as he began to move. Listened to her breath become more erratic and feel her heart race.

She wrapped herself around him completely and buried her face in his shoulder. "Faster." His mind was swimming as he ran his hands up her sides. He wanted to _see_ her but she remained unmovable in his arms. "More." He continued, feeling more like he was assaulting the girl rather than pleasing her. He swallowed hard, trying to control himself, not wanting to hurt her. He had half a mind to slow down, his climax was building quickly, but he did not. _"Janus."_

Abigale Lynn had never called him by his name before but he liked it. The Count closed his eyes wanting to listen to her breathing…only to discover she was not. Before he could react, however, she dug her nails painfully across his back. He hissed and leaned back slightly to give her a 'no-no' look, but she bucked her hips again so violently against him that he quickly disregarded it.

Everything was amazing. He was on top of the world.

"Janus! Oh Gods, kiss me."

He pulled back and pressed his mouth to hers, ready to relish the warmth of her lips…that was absent. As was her panting.

She was cold.

"Janus. Kiss me, Janus."

He opened his eyes.

The Count stared mortified and frozen. In his arms he held not sweet, young Abigale Lynn but his wife Rona. Cold taught skin clinging to her bones. Her hair was like wire; a paled brown and eyes sunken in and dark. Irises a color red so deep the shade could not be found even in Oblivion.

He flung himself from her and fell back into his chair. Everything was wrong. Rona, she…

Rona moved, her bones creaking as she sat up, stark naked and skeletal. Her skin was _grey_. "Kiss me, kiss her." She stood from the desk, her limbs so weak and fragile she wobbled as she moved. She smiled, bearing bloodied teeth at him. "Adultery" She whispered.

The Count was unmoving, frozen from shock and fear. "Rona-"

"Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!" Rona suddenly shouted. Janus covered his ears.

"Stop!" He choked. He was disgusted with himself. Disgusted with her! _What magic is this?_

"Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!" She laughed and began beating the desk with one hand, It looked like it was about to snap off her wrist. "Adultery! Adultery! Sin, sin, sin!"

Bloodied tears began to fall from his eyes. _This is a dream._ "Stop it, Rona please." This was not his wife. This…creature that laughed and pointed and shouted was not his wife. "Gods…Let me wake up. _Please_ let me wake."

Rona came closer, about to descend upon him; feed on him.

Then Janus woke up.

XXXX

"Sir?" Light tapping sounded from the door. "I-It's me Sir. May I come in?"

The Count jolted awake. He looked around the room as if waiting for his comatose wife to stagger into his line of sight at any moment. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, desperately trying to purge the image from his thoughts. He was still seated in his chair, at his quaint little desk, neat and tidy. All was well it had just been another horrific nightmare.

"Perhaps I should come back later?..." His head snapped toward the voice_. Abigale Lynn_. Janus felt his throat tighten. Shame quickly formed and burned, planted itself firmly in his gut.

"N-no, no." The Count cleared his throat and stood, slightly wobbly at the knees. "You may come in."

* * *

Authors Notes: I have been so busy that I won't even try to explain myself. But this is more of a 'filler' chapter. I figured I left _myself_ hanging too long. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE. I know where this story is going of course but maybe so requests will help the muse?

Thanks to all that reviewed! Much appreciated!


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